It has started again. The kicking in of restlessness and wanderlust. I feel as if I am under house arrest, confined in the walls that I have constructed to live in. It seems as if I am in a jail.
I thought I had finally put down roots. Maybe there are no roots for me.
I yearn for another place, another set of faces, another set of skies, another set of thoughts to sustain me. I need to go and run outta here. Its not that I have nothing that interests me - everything interests me, but I am impatient to my interests. They don't hold me anymore.
No reason. I am just done here.