I keep talking about how much I hate this place and how much I need to get away and move to the west, but Houston is no different from anywhere else, the weather and scenery may tend to differ, but modern-day life is the same. It’s the memories that haunt me and they cannot be left behind no matter how far I go. If it wasn’t Houston it would be somewhere else that I would want to escape from. When enough time passes and we are still sitting in the same place, anything can seem like hell. Don’t get me wrong, my plans to move west (wherever that may be) have not been cancelled, I just came to the realization that I probably won’t find happiness there either. My surroundings would be much more pleasant, and the excitement of living in an entirely new place would inspire me in all aspects, but I can’t assume perfection. I have a bad habit of building things up in my head and painting a pretty picture predicting an unknown outcome. It is too simple to say that happiness comes from within even though it truly does. Maybe happiness isn’t what I’m looking for. I love traveling, going from place to place, experiencing so much in so little time. No matter where I settle down, I probably won’t want to stay.
May 9, 1998