It'll be Alright.

Never sure what to do in these kinds of seasons.  I feel like I’ve somehow slipped back into my years of teen angst.  Renewed feelings of inability to express the way I feel; inside, about life, about beauty.  The worst is the feeling that you won’t be able to express yourself when it’s necessary.  The ‘adult world’ discredits teens often, I believe, as having illegitimate problems.  In reality, they may not be as intrinsically legitimate, but the feeling of the situation’s intensity is much greater than is accredited to.  In recent years, many of the things I face are more severe in the long run than when I was a teen, but as a teen, problems simply seem worse — like they’re going to kill you.  Lately, I’ve felt that emotional creep up inside me.  

Nostalgia.  Going home in a few weeks, I’m nervous.  Genuinely nervous.  First, as I’ll usually be resigned to holidays to go home for an unforeseeable time, I’m coming to grips with the reality that I may only ever see Ohio in winter.  Second, while luckily being in accepting San Francisco, I haven’t felt quite so much as a close-minded right winger since people are nice.  But, being an Ohio boy in San Francisco, I can’t win.  When I’m home, I’ve been converted to leftist ideology.  When I’m here, I’m passed for some country ignorance or something.  Both places I go, I’m politically outcast because of my taste of both worlds.  I really hope to avoid all political content while I’m home.  I’m looking forward to Ohio.  I’m so excited to see everyone.  I just hope I still fit in, at least if enough for half a month.  

I miss being in different places.  I feel not quite as if I can say I miss traveling.  I do enjoy airports, and different spaces, but not traveling.  I enjoy being in similar places in different places.  I like to appreciate the subtle differences.  I like to feel the common thread through the world.  I like to think, in every state there is a field with wind blowing through it.  But every one slightly different.  The large, cloudy skies of Colorado.  The windy-swept grain of Ohio.  The clear blue skies of the bay.  I miss large clouds, and overcast skies, but not cold.  

I want the future to be exciting.  I feel as if, for a while, I’ve been a me trapped up in a box.  I’m realizing again that I am who I am, but haven’t felt like I’ve been expressing it.  Does a man express himself simply by being?  Or does he take effort to be himself?  

I want to be home, but I want to be in the future too.  I can feel eternity.  I wish I could live it.