August 13, 2011
I'm not participating in the beauty which lives here, the art, the music, the warmth of Austin people. And I've give up on love.
I'm stuck, and hoping to jar myself with a new address, a fresh start.
Sometimes moving doesn't turn out for the best, sometimes it's worse; I know that if I'm running from something I'll just find it wherever I go, and I know that at least part of what I'm doing is running.
I've a comfortable life here, if not a satisfying one.
But if I'm staying simply for comfort, predictability – what the fuck is that?