i've been encumbered in my everyday tasks by an overwhelming feeling to run away

but i don't want to go to france. i don't want to go to new york. i don't want to go to san francisco, chicago, i don't even want to go to hawaii. i don't want to go anywhere that people are always wanting to go, where people have become wonderful, where memories flourished, where somebody might know my name or a place i've seen on an adolescent tv-drama.

i want to go to nowhere. i want to be overcome by extreme emptiness and unrecognizable discomfort. i want to go to a town where people will look at me with a strange expression only because i'm someone they don't know.

i want to explore the dry wastelands, i want to not have my breath be taken away by blossoming beauty embellishing every area but by the stunning vast emptiness that has yet to be overthrown by a mall or starbucks or gas station

i want to meet some weird people while under a pseudonym. i mean really weird people. the kind of people who i might be genuinely afraid of and who might have such startling oddities that i can hardly look at them in the eye

i want to see abandoned houses, stained with memories of utter mediocrity

i want to see the ochreous halo of light on dead plants and thorny weeds as the sun slips away

i want to see a place i've never heard of

byebye