(via bloodonblood)
See, this is exactly what I’m talking about. I was living like this for a good three years before I moved the hell out of that tar-pit town. I was filthy, derailed, without a care in the world, undisciplined. I hated it. I hate it more now that I wasted so much time.
That kind of life still has it’s appeal. To not have anything tying you down, to be free. But it’s just an illusion that I’ve only recently come to realize. Free isn’t living like a homeless person, drunk and high and stupid. Free is having the ability to do what you want and still take a bath every day without the worry of where or who you’re going to be sleeping with next .
I can feel that life just out of reach. I’m not used to living with a purpose. I’m rusty. I need practice. I need a shoulder. I need a friend, a girlfriend. Maybe even a wife. I still don’t know what I need. But, I need it soon.