It’s come to that time where you have to face the music and do the inevitable “hasta la vista.” Like most average people, I dread the solemn emotions and the tortuous act of demonstrative affection. While deep in my heart I am heartbroken over the idea of not seeing these people for an extended period of time, I am quite distracted by the enormity of my upcoming travels. To be blunt, I have no time for trivial moments of pathetically inadequate goodbyes. There are places that I can’t even pronouced that I need to visit and pay homage to and have not done nearly enough research in preparation.
I truly love some of the friends I’m leaving behind, and will be greatly missed. I(Lets not count the people under 3 lbs. and named after a peanut.) Despite this radical change, it saddens me on a fundamental level to leave all this behind. I hate the fact my history has been stripped and on sale for trampling drunks to purchase. The clearance sale was up this weekend and I finally came closer to liquidating my precious car at a markedly reduced price. Depressed about the aspect of leaving my sister’s home (lets be honest, I moved out of my home weeks ago), and confounded about my future, I will venture into the predictable oblivion and sort out my next obscurity. With all this on my mind, I have not been empathetic with the emotional turmoil of those staying behind.
I will try to continue to write on this journey while I transition to my new Pinky-esque world, I will need time to immerse in my new home: Thailand.