These days, it seems every other week I get lost in the fantasy of selling everything we own, putting the heirlooms in storage, buying one of these
and saying goodbye to the life of day to day. Thus, making day to day a totally
unknown kind of day to day. Meeting all new people, having all new adventures, seeing new bands, climbing new mountains, making beautiful, short documentaries, finding more birds, watching Stella run through new fields.
Nothing's making us stay in one place,
there are no limits here but mine.
It's the thought of not having an everyday life,
a daily community to commune with,
the neighbors that are looking out for us like family,
this is what keeps me here.
Why, then, do I constantly wish to run off?
Someday I think, nay, I
hope that RK will wake up in the morning, turn to me (and stella, i must admit, who's sleeping there between us) and say
that's it. we're going. it's settled. pack a bag!
but, I know me (and RK knows me waaay too well) and I know I will go through the list of all the reasons it might not work, I will question if we aren't working towards something by staying in one place, I'll wonder if that something isn't the very thing we're not doing, and we'll talk about all the places we'd like to travel to one day and how we'll deck out the inside of an airstream.
As a love letter to RK, my roundabout way of telling him I feel for him, I'm on his side and we most likely will continue this fornever ending discussion/fantasy/bigtalk of becoming true roadsters, I give you: Concertina,
It's a gamble, but there's a place out there, it'll give us an entirely new index to the story of our life, where it is, I'm not sure how we'll decide, but let's get out there, out beyond ideas of right and wrong.