And I miss you, I'm going back home to the west coast.

Hello, World.

There's this problem with people nowadays,
everyone needs to know what everyone else is thinking,
all the time. The rise of social networking has broken down
a barrier that no one realized existed, and we're being
flooded with useless information that we are somehow
supposed to care about. We've forgotten the importance
of privacy, of letting people live their lives the way they choose,
and sometimes sharing with the few worthy ones. There's no mystery,
no acceptance of the fact that we can never truly know any other
person. Just the idea that now we can go to a page and decide
whether or not we like a person, based on photos and anecdotes. That
because we found them on Google, we're qualified to make a judgement.
Because of social networking, reality TV, cell phones and god knows what else,
we believe have the right to butt into the lives of everyone around us.
But the truth is, we don't. No one does.We've all been there,
desperately trying to decode a person through Facebook or Twitter or their
goddamn vague text messages. Wondering what they think of you, do they like you,
do they hate you? But then I realized, who gives a shit?
It's completely and totally insane that we willing spend more time talking about
our lives and wondering about others than we do just closing the laptop
and living. So, fuck it. Stop worrying about who hates you or who thinks your profile
picture is cute, stop worrying about the judgement of people you don't care about, stop worrying
about sounding smart and start worrying about what the hell you're gonna do for the real
world, the one that's been waiting for you.

Letting Go, or a Jumble of Feelings on Leaving Home.

      For the majority of my conscious life, I have lived in one city. Not a city I ever imagined I would love, nor a city I thought I would miss. But these things creep up on you, you complain and complain about the smallness, the stillness, the boredom, until one day you leave and that small town is no longer your angst, but that little hole in your heart that you are missing.

                                    
      There is constantly a part of me that wishes to stay, to give up on the confusion and difficulty of finding my place in a new city and settle for the restaurants I know I love and the people I know love me. And to be completely honest, I reason with myself daily for fear of never belonging anywhere else again. Fear that I will never again feel as at ease anywhere else as I do in this old house with the adobe walls and cracked wooden floors, or driving the roads late at night with my music loud and my mind empty, because here, I always know where I'm going.

                                         
      Lately, I feel as though I've been suspended in mid-air, aimlessly wandering through my own life as though I'm not living it, but observing it. I tell myself the emotions I should be feeling, or the things I should be doing, but they never come. Instead I sit in my childhood home, empty and full of echoes, wishing I could make sense of my thoughts or the way I feel inside.

                                        
    Leaving for school last year, that seemed manageable. I was prepared to go forth and discover new territories, create a new place for myself. The knowledge that I'd always be able to go back to where I grew up and see my parents eating dinner in our dining room or reading in their bedroom, that steadied me. Now that they're moving, I feel as though I have no real place of comfort.

                                        
    The phrase "Going Home" has lost its meaning. I'm not quite sure where I'm going.

Now I feel like Carolina, I split myself in two.

Getting ready to say goodbye, it makes the memories bittersweet. Almost missing them as I make them.