"What a curious life we have found here tonight"

"You should never hesitate to trade your cow for a handful of magic beans." - Tom Robbins

I've been in Brooklyn for almost 6 months now, and I'm already getting the urge to move on. This constant need for change haunts me. I've moved so many times in the past few years, and it's never enough. I am on an eternal quest to piece together a life where I feel comfortable being in this skin. Mainly I change locations, whether it be apartments, cities or coasts.

I have this restless feeling that is always bubbling below the surface. Every so often I do something new (latest was piercing my nose) or different and it soothes it for awhile. Moving is what helps the most. I never feel as exhilarated as the moment I start the car and drive off to a new destination. I can glance in the rear view mirror and honestly smile. Smile at memories of what I'm leaving, smile at memories of where I'm heading. I have never let myself move to run away from something, no matter how much I have wanted to. You can't hide from your problems, they catch up to you no matter where you go.

I am always moving towards something that I think is going to fix everything, make me feel like a whole person... but nothing ever does. That's where my problem en lies. I keep thinking that changing something is going to fix me, but it doesn't. Maybe it will make the situation a bit better, but it's always the same. I always lapse into the same routines, the same feelings, the same emotions.

When I was younger I had this theory that life is on an endless loop. You keep encountering the same situations over and over again in disguise. You relive the same thing until you learn your lesson and do things right. For example. If you keep dating the type of person who treats you badly, it's because you are supposed to handle this one differently. You wind up with the same sort guy over and over until you respond correctly.

But hidden in this love for change is fear. Fear that it won't work, fear that I will fail, fear that I will end up unhappy once again. Apprehension forever clouds my mind.

I'm suffocating and it's only been six months.