I. Beginnings

I have been meaning to start a blog for a while; a real, sincere one. Now, let’s cut to the chase. DISCLAIMER: I am a writer of both fiction and fact, and as a human, those things tend to become thoroughly intertwined, so what is writing of the literary sort shall be categorized as such, but there will be embellishments of fiction in my fact, and visa versa. Here’s the first post.

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I am about to leave everything I’ve ever really known, and throw myself into a completely different environment that I’ve been familiar with in my soul, but not physically immersed in. It makes for an interesting concept. I’ve lived in one house, in one family, in one town, in one school system (for the majority of the years) my entire life. And I wanted, more than anything, to escape from all the familiar. But that meant more than I thought it did. I’m a young person. Naive, raw, and full of passion; a perfect ball of clay within which hides a sculpture that will either be a masterpiece or a disaster. I am going to be living in a place where I don’t know where anything is (I hardly know here), where I am relying on, literally, the kindness of strangers and peers with whom I’ve had no previous experience. I am unmarried, unattached to anything more than specific people who are as easily kinetic (some more than others) as I, and racing towards potential, dreams: shadows and fog. Humanity lies before me, in the mirror image of myself. People always say, when they end up in jobs they don’t love, married to people they don’t love, “Life happens.” But I don’t buy that now, when I’m full of young naivete, and I don’t think I ever will. Nothing but myself has tied me down, and nothing but myself ever really will. I’m only as obligated as I think I am. My potential, my passions, my future; my reality is malleable. I don’t know how that ever changes.

Escaping from everything, I’m searching for the version of myself I’ll find in my new life. I’m getting to deal with the psychological aspects of separation and maturation that I knew I’d be facing, with absolutely no prior experience to guide me. They say youth is wasted on the young, but I feel like I’m living.

“I exist as I am, and that is enough.” - Walt Whitman’s “Leaves of Grass