chicagogypsy

The only time I ever lose the restless feeling is when I’m on the road, where the scenery is constantly changing.  Maybe the rush and chaos of change only keep the restless thoughts away.  They stand waiting, poised to strike again when I finally try to stand still.  I was almost surprised when yet another person questioned if I was moving again or staying put for a while.  The more I try to put down roots, the more I want to run away. 

While on the road you can escape certain things, you can have the same superficial relationship with dozens along the way.  I can hear it in the voices of the seasoned road warriors; they talk about themselves, leaving little room for a reply.  I can hear the repetition of the stories if I call to often, but on the road that story is new again.  The comfort of home or the excitement of the road; I am not sure which I need more right now.  I’ve never been one to trade anything for excitement. 

I measure things by how much time will have passed until it is completed.  If I work this job for 6 months, I’ll be 26.5 and have lived in Chicago for almost a year.  If I live here for a year, I’ll be 27 and 5 years out of college.  I can’t plan for the future because I feel that negates the present. 

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