It really doesnt make much sense to me. I think im a nice person, all around and such, but I get so mean over such small things. Rediculous things. Maybe I just need to be on my own for a while, go somewhere new, be someone else...This person is kinda annoying, but running away from yourself never works.
I remember the first time I tried to "run away". Freshman year. I had heard about foreign exchange, the popularity, and I really hated my mom at the time, so i thought, "why not, lets go". By the time I actually got around to going, it was too late. I didnt want to leave, I didnt have a problem with my mom anymore. But I went anyway, found a whole new world in a different hemisphere....Now I want to runaway to there. See my friends, party in the desert, get so drunk i dont know who i am (dont take that the wrong way, i am against alcohol and drugs, but sometimes i just wanna do it anyway).
Walter was always there, Friday nights, walking for hours, going the the silver mine ruins and just watching the city breathe. Beautiful. The cold night outside my bedroom window, seeing all the lights stretch over the hills and down to the coast. Listening to the late night parties down the street, watching the drunks make their way home, singing. Seeing the homeless still asleep as I walked to school each morning. Daydreaming of vampires as I walked home at 2 am from the Mexicanada.... The first time I got wasted in the hills on the 22nd of this month, having two strangers help me pee. Seeing the sun set over Valle de la Luna, imagining the Atacamanian tribes holding rituals in the canyon.
I have to go back, I will go back.