Give my gun away when it’s loaded

Sometimes I think it would be nice to just go away. Leaving everything and everyone. Try to be something else. Not keep being stuck. Live as a homeless, walk unfamiliar streets, seeing only strangers faces, getting into situations you never thought you could be in.

Being stuck isn’t much fun. But being a homeless probably isn’t either. It somehow seems nice though. I have to be one of the few who envy homeless people.

Or to just walk around, finding a library, talking to people who don’t know who you are or how you’ve lived before. Working at a foodstore, getting involved with something you care about. Helping to save something or someone, forgetting who you are for some time. Or finding yourself.

I think there’s a reason I’m not blogging much these days. I can’t keep the light tone up for that long.

Of course it’s a fantasy, I couldn’t do it. Saying that makes it so much more tempting. But I have to much too lose as it is, too much I could never leave. Somehow that doesn’t seem good either. I’m kind of stuck in between, not getting anywhere.

I want to see Mr. Nobody again. I miss that movie on a daily basis.

I have to say again, it’s a sad fantasy. My problems wouldn’t go away simply by running. They’ve chased me so far, and will chase me for some time to come. But it seems so much easier. Just deleting yourself, starting out from scratch, whole and unshattered.

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