Today, July 20, 2016, is the day I start my journal.
I’m listening to my favorite song, Big Jet Plane, and thinking about my move to the place I want to be for the rest of my life. To tons people here in Oregon it’s a hot, burning, wasteland full of rich old people and sand. But I don’t think that’s true. I have more friends and family there than I do here and I think it would be healthy for me to move from Dallas. It’s going to be so much more difficult than I’ve lead on, but it’ll be worth it. I’m becoming an adult. What sprung this gigantic move? Well let me start at October 9, 2016. The day Mat Thorsted and I started dating. Everything was going great or at least I thought. He turned out to not be what I was expecting and I ended up expecting a surprise, twice, with him. But those surprises became difficult losses that only he and I knew about. And nobody understood except for him. But it’s whatever for right now because it’s in the past. He’s in the past now. He’s a difficult loss. We broke up about two weeks ago, and it was hard for the few days it took me to realize Dallas isn’t the place for me. Next.
The only difficult thing about this move is the great goodbye. My best friend doesn’t want me to move and I can tell, but she won’t talk to me about it because I think she knows it’ll stop me from going where I need to be. She compares it to a break up, but worse. I understand it, it’s going to be hard for me too. I just don’t know how to show it because I never cry about moving, ever. So maybe she thinks it’s not as difficult for me as it is to her. Next.
I think what’s really going to hit home is when my couch is gone. I’ve been procrastinating on giving it away because it’s a piece of me, a piece of my that I don’t need and nobody wants anyways. And I’m the only one who wants it. But I can’t have it anymore. It’s like having your favorite movie and every time you show it to somebody they think it’s the stupidest movie in the Universe, and you don’t know what to do but only watch it by yourself. It’s hard because you want to share it, but nobody wants you to share it. That’s what my favorite everything is like. People just listen to them, or watch them or sit on them just out of courtesy and it’s the weirdest, saddest feeling in the world. I just keep everything to myself. I’m probably going to end up keeping my journal to myself too, now that I think about it. Next.
I used to think that I should write a book, but I was never sure if people would read a book of my ideas. Whatever, next.
I have a terribly humongous crush on my friend and I don’t know what to do because I’m moving away and saying my goodbyes already. I think he has a hint, but I’m not going to tell him because I would just be disappearing on him again. I hate disappearing on people. Next.
When I was a kid both of my parents were in the military and I never got to say goodbye to my friends. I just disappeared all the time, about every year or two. Except for Georgia. I stayed there the longest. Next.
I miss me. I miss being who I used to be. A free spirited, Bob Dylan listening, mocassin wearing, happy person. I’m not that anymore. I listen to rap and wear Vans. Just like everybody else. I’m not me. Maybe that’s what growing up is. Not feeling like yourself. Or maybe I’ve just found my adult self and I just don’t know what to do about it. Next.
This is it for today, I don’t know when I’ll do it again. Probably the day before I leave, with who I am. Anyways, End.
discoholicmusic
tangentwithtanner
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