Square one.

I question whether or not things will ever change. I feel as if the only way anything will change is if I hightail it out of this city. But I also know that people are pretty much the same anywhere you go.

Sometimes, I look around at all of my crap and I wonder how much money I'd make if I just sold it all. And then I wonder what would happen if I packed up what was left and hit the road.
I know I'm not going to do any of this, but the thought crosses my mind sometimes.

I am unhappy with so many different aspects of my life.
Oy vey.


Painting by Mark Rothko.