I seriously want to get out of here. I want to kick the tires and light the fires. I want to pack up my favorite t-shirts and an extra pair of jeans in my leather atlas suitcase. I want to get all my money out in cash and stuff it in my wallet. I want to bring my suitcase of old journals and a book or two that I’m reading. I want to drive alone and learn every word to every song Bob Dylan ever wrote. I want to meet people and become best friends suddenly then leave town the next day. I want to sleep in stranger’s spare beds and on their couches, but somehow feel really at home. I want to drive all day and get out of the car in a totally different climate. I want to help people by just giving them a fresh outlook on their problems. I want to be helped by people who look at my problems with new eyes and hearts. I want to go out for drinks and charm all the people I’m with because they don’t know me or if my stories are true. I want to wave my arms and raise my voice and tell all the people working so hard for no reason that they need to relax. When they calm down, I want to tell them in a hushed voice that they just need to stop. Stop running and rushing and worrying. Just breathe. Cry really hard if you need to. Laugh really hard if you want to. Love really hard because you have to. You just have to. If you don’t love…if you don’t love who you are and who you’re with and what you’re doing, then life is really nothing. In the end, if you don’t take the risk of loving, it all is really nothing.