The Bohemian Adventurer

I am...
Speechless...or wordless or however you want to call it. Fact, I have not been writing for the longest time. I didn't think there was anything worth writing about. But then I look back to everything I have written, and I ask, "Who the fuck cares, anyway?" I don't think anybody still reads this shit. I know I don't. At least not until I've jumped from all sites imaginable and just too lazy to get out of my PC chair. Not until I feel so bored and restless and hopeless do I get the nerve to actually go back to this site to start smelling the flowers again.

Why do I run? Why do I wander from place to place trying to justify that I live the life of a great bohemian adventurer ready to take on the world? When in fact, all I really want to do is to stay put and put a semblance of permanency in my life. When all I really hope for is to stay long enough at any one place at any one time to grow some roots and maybe even just bloom a little. But no, see I set a fleeting pace to my very existence and leap bounds of distances as if I was running away for my life.

When do I stop? When do I set the pace so that it actually matches my heartbeat? How long can I go and how hard can I still give? In time I will have to admit I've grown tired. I'm sure I'm not built to last this way.