... or so I wish.
I guess in many ways I'm starting to feel separated from my "old self." I don't even know how to define my "old self" - where does one drawn a line and say "yes, this is the point at which I changed?" I really can't do that yet, but I do know that I'm changing. I feel it.
I'm slowly becoming further spaced from my parents and my home, mainly because I spend such little time there. With ninety-percent of my life able to fit into a couple of bags, I don't find much need to be home other than to sleep, get clean clothes, and eat free food. I blame it on school mostly - I'm always plugging away on projects or reading. I also blame it on my creative stalemate. I find it hard to gather inspiration for my fiction within the confines of my home, making me venture to BG on a daily basis, writing or not.
Then again, they say that "home is where your heart is." I'm beginning to think that my heart is elsewhere else besides my house right now... I think it's firmly planted outside of my past and into a potentially awesome future...
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