Rather than a lame post stating that I am back, here is something more interesting (written a few days ago, I think):
Apathy: freedom from pain, fear, desire, or pleasure.
Being away for a month only served to make being back a whole lot worse than it was before. I miss the days when I could actually feel the days passing. Here, the last time I remember feeling the time passing was when I realised it was October.
I left the Falls in mid June for only one reason: I thought I’d go back. I really, sincerely thought that my frustration was temporary, and that being home by itself was enough to drive me to run away again. It wasn’t. I was too much of a coward.
Because there are things I don’t miss. I don’t miss the many sleepless nights wandering between twenty-four hour coffee shops, sitting on a bench in a food court at 4 a.m. with my head against my backpack, so cold that I often stooped as low as to use my beach towel as a blanket. I don’t miss feeling paranoid because the men’s locker room at my gym did not have private showers. I don’t miss all the interrogations, the curious looks, the morons who dared to ask if I needed ‘help.’
Because whatever ‘help’ I truly need, I know they would never be able to give me—or wouldn’t be bothered to if they could.
I miss the sunrises. The sunrise meant the end of a sleepless night in a coffee shop, that I could be warm under the shining rays, that I could maybe steal some breakfast from some hotel, that soon my only refuge would be open. I once said to someone that I wished there was a twenty-four hour library, and if there was, I would live there.
I stopped caring what my family thought when I realised they were morons—narrow-minded fools. Content to believe the lies fed to them by their own parents and all the so-called ‘authorities’ without ever questioning or looking for something more. I must have been no older than twelve.
I miss the fountain by the falls, where I once sat down to cry. I miss… that day when I got so incredibly lost that I thought I might collapse on my feet before I made it back to the city, but I didn’t give up, and how happy I was when I ended up at a fair that sold $3 funnel cake.
Because when there are real dangers to contend with, fears like riding a roller coaster or going to the dentist suddenly seem so trivial.
Because freedom is worth any price.
Because trying isn’t good enough when you always fail, and there are reasons I should hate my mother, too.
