I am supposed to be at the coast, right?
That is where I think you want me to be.
(or somewhere else)…
And my parents believe that I should be here.
So, going to stay with them would be like a strange schism of sorts.
It would mean standing up against the forces that have shaped me to become so compliant.
With unfamiliar skills.
Or maybe I need to be in another city. I am not sure, but it doesn’t feel right here.
I have support shifts scheduled for the next month.
This dog sit is not fun.
I also know that living my life, based on cues from the outside world, without real conversation, without real friendship is not very precise. . . and not so rational or fun.
Decisions in the dark.
If I don’t plan ahead, people will make up my mind for me.
It feels like I have made committed to things that are keeping me here, and that is not what the world wants for me.
Woe.