the future.

Hey there kids! It's 3:35 in the morning, and you know what that means!

It's time for another installment of "Clara is an insomniac zombie!" YAAAAAAAAYYY.

It's hot. It got up to ninety today, and as I have previously stated, I do not like hot weather, so in the Clarometer, It was about ten degrees over "lay in bed and die" and well into "oh dear god."

One of these days, I am going to get out. I refuse to be one of those people who just stays in one town their entire life. I know people like that. They were born here, their parents were born here, their grandparents were born here, all of them grew up here, went to school here, got married here, never left here, and fully intend on dying here. They make me sad. They never want to see what's out there, they stay with what they know, with what is safe, and that really depresses me because life isn't safe. It's not supposed to be familiar. As my biology teacher said in one of her few moments of good-teachery; "nothing about reality is constant."

I'm gonna get out of this town, out of this state, and I'm going to go somewhere where it snows in the winter. The closest I'd ever consider to being here is on the other side of the continent. New York, Jersey, maybe. Somewhere I don't know anybody and I can't run home. Somewhere where I can force myself to regenerate. Maybe London. Somewhere where I can study my music and be the person that I want to be instead of the crappy person I'm stuck as.

I can't be close to home because I know I will give up if I am. I will run home and be safe and I can't do that. I want to rent a small apartment and go to college and be able to play folk rock and Black Flag on my guitar at four in the morning. I want to be able to watch the sun come up. I want to be able to wear what I want without judgmental looks from people I know. I want to drink coffee and write and draw and sing and be me for once in my goddamn life I want to be me. And I can't do that in California. The ghosts of everybody else are overwhelming me.