Driving

-There was a small victory in today. I drove around for nearly an hour. It gave me something to do. I was in search of Parliaments, two fer. I drove from one place to the other, thinking about the times I had been there before, driven through the same passages I followed. It was completely laughable that I was driving to buy cigarettes. But there was more to it. It was a journey. Not a journey with a destination, to be exact, but a journey into the self perhaps. Almost that of an old soul searching through where it’s been. For each place, there was a memory, if not several. All my life in the same place and still its palatable.
I know people who feel claustrophobic in their cities and become completely different when they cross their city’s limits. I still follow the same paths, they’re comfortable. Perhaps that’s not a good thing. Maybe it’s quite wonderful. There are days, when I feel like I need to escape, like I need to get away. But now, at least today, I simply feel I need to get started.
I spoke to a friend about all his free time. He says he fills it with a myriad of projects he leaves half finished, simply, so that he can always go back to them. Building his tapestry of self, slowly. Perhaps, I need to build the tapestry of me. Stop reading and start writing.
For now, I’m buying cigarettes and driving.