Tabitha R

My life at the moment is in a state of flux. I went from holding down an average joe job to being a perpetual traveller. I'm sitting here at a bus station in south Boston wondering what the hell happened with my life. I'm looking at the people walking by with their suit cases and their cell phones pressed up against their ears, and I have to admitt that I do feel a twinge of envie. They have lives to live and people to come home to. But I can't help but feel addicted to this nomadic life. I'm still new to the experience of train hopping and urban camping. Before then, I always managed to save up a few hundred dollars so I can take a bus or plane to wherever the hell I wanted to go. I took my car through town or down some old TX highway just to get away from the daily grind. Little did I realize that my spontaneity to take off would cause my relationships to wear and tear over time.

I used to travel in order to find a sense of self worth from other people, to be the kid laughing and gibbering away in her cell phone after walking through the gate at the end of the flight. But now I realize that I am a loner, and that's ok. I don't need to imitate other people's lives in order to feel worthwhile.

For the next year or so, I plan on writing my ass off, short stories, poetry, so I can earn my bread and cheese from what I live to do. All I can really hope is for my relatives to cool the fuck off from what was an interesting year. In the meantime, I'll still be sitting here at the terminal immersed either in a book or an article online.