What it
was like from the inside.
I could remember a whole lot of running
around. I never seemed to have enough time for the things that needed
to be done,
and I was always passing out at night,
exhausted but ready for whatever the next day had to offer. I was a little
nervous, not
knowing what would happen to me in
New York, or how things would turn out. Everything was new and not new,
since I had
done this all before. But not like
this. Life was always easier the last time I remembered doing anything
that meant something,
and this meant a lot to me. I never
really traveled anywhere, and when I did I felt an overwhelming sense of
relief from being
home again - if it was home. But
just being somewhere in the meantime and not being absolutely, completely
in control of my
life compounded the listlessness
I was feeling. I was ready already and wondered everyday what was holding
me back.
People who knew that I was going
were happy for me and congratulating me and I knew I was doing the right
thing.
So I stopped waiting. And Went.
But you know
what they say:  You can never
go home again. |
(Much
BADness, Lars. 
Tsk,tsk).Check
out 
