a ramble

The feelings I have on feelings I have had are changing. The past has this way of making itself very present. And I am not sure whether or not it is a personal ailment or if perhaps other people suffer from these sorts of times. If I had a closet for every skeleton I kept.

Lately, most of today, and the last few I have been thinking greatly on my moving to Idaho. Idaho. I cannot say the name without the wonderful song playing through my head. I’ll dance alone in my apartment and cry myself to sleep. I am prepared to have and to deal with more emotions on a daily basis than I do right now.

I bought maps in the basement of a consignment store in Minneapolis off Zenith and twenty third. Seven maps of Idaho, old and torn around the edges, smudged and spilled on. Those maps and a pair of green Hunter rain boots I bought are the only measures I have made for my new life out there.

My greatest fear is not that what I am leaving behind will not be here for me when I return. But that I will change so much that it will no longer be what I wish to return to.

I ramble.

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