My desire to escape city life grows ever stronger. Despite the fairly constant strain of dealing with the heat this summer, I find myself envisioning living secluded in the desert. Tall rocks, dry air, the beige and tan and pale sun-drenched greens. Away from it.
Is it strange that there are still a handful of people that make me sweat whether or not I am considered cool to them? I think it is. I think it's funny, too.
As of late, I feel more wrapped up in the safety of all situations, a familiarity, but still so...lost. Is there truth and authenticity? It's like waiting for something. It is unreal. It is out of body at times. I struggle with relating to a realness I am looking for.
I think I would miss the snow.