Stream of consciousness.

I’ve been in a really weird mood today. I think it’s the weather. Overcast skies always treat me strangely. I’ve been journaling randomly throughout the day.

10 days until this is over. I’m excited to go home, but I’m gonna miss this place. But the thing is, I don’t miss home itself; I miss the people. I miss my parents and my sisters and Patti and the old woman that works at the Valero down the street from my house and looks like she used to be beautiful before she smoked her way into her 60’s.

I never really miss places, only the people in them.

Sometimes, though, I do miss places. I miss the apartment where I grew up, with the balcony that I would drop army men off of and the nook under the stairs where I kept my desk. I miss the old mobile home that first housed me when my mom and I moved to Texas, the one with the horse stables in the lot next door, where I could see them galloping and kicking up dust if I climbed up the fence.

I’m a strong believer that it doesn’t matter where you are as long as you have people you love with you.

My keys always end up in the front right pocket of my black jeans.

I want my life to be like a sad song or an old photograph. Everything previous and everything to come completely disregarded just to capture that one moment of emotion and beauty. That three minute snippet of feeling and words.

I think that I’m too many people rolled into one and they’re always fighting and dancing with one another.

I don’t think people have fixed identities. We’re always made of the same components, but we’re constantly shifting and tweaking them.