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Transient, I Am

Washington visit was good

I got to see people I hadn't seen in a long time, got some much needed rest and the Radiohead concert was totally awesome. It was only a short time there and I wish it were longer. I could really use a bigger break from things for a while.

 Mmmmmmm mediocre photographs...

Mmmmmmm mediocre photographs...

Something struck me though on first arrival, driving up I-5 back home and continued to be reinforced in small ways over the trip. "Home" wasn't really home anymore.

Yes, there was comfort and familiarity, but those two alone aren't enough to evoke a true feeling of home. There's some third part, something indescribable and little more than a feeling, but that feeling is the most crucial part.

And so it was that I realized that I am homeless. Not literally, you gullible fool, but metaphorically. Los Angeles doesn't feel like home and neither does the Seattle area.

So. What about that? I don't know. This constant, tiny feeling of transience has been with me since starting college, grew more with the move to LA, grew further with my latest visit to Washington.

I am not a fan of this feeling, I've decided. It makes me restless and anxious in not-so-great ways. Intellectually, I understand that my homes are always going to be impermanent, just like everything else, but there is a sense of permanence, of finality (no matter how illusory) critical to that feeling of home that defies logic.

I know my current apartment, as great as it is, is not to last. It is a stepping stone on the way to another one and then another and another and another. I can't fully settle in because I know that in a relatively short amount of time, I won't live there anymore. I'll be forced to move on by some reason or another.

I know people are, in a way, meant to be nomads, but I am the hermit of hermits if there ever was a hermit to hermit up hermit mountain. I take root and sprawl like a big ol' tree, I don't just spritz pollen all over the place and stick around, then move on, then stay and then...

Well there's a convoluted metaphor that should've been abandoned but TOO BAD IT'S THERE DEAL WITH IT.

Well fuck.

There's no reasolution to this week. Not that there usually is to these things. Everything is in-progress. I suppose I have a need to make sure certain things are for certain in my life since certainty in general is in such short supply.

There are worse troubles to have. But ah, if I didn't complain about troubles then my blog material would shrink so.

The Night Welcomes Abigail

I Haven't Been Home in Close to a Year and a Half