Love and some verses
I feel the need to document my last night in the old place. It’s been six whole months, which is longer than any of the other five places I’ve lived since England last year.
Maybe it sounds twisted, but I thrive on moving. It makes me feel like the nomadic essence of my soul is still intact — that I’m still not tied down to any one place, that I still have the ability to pick up and move whenever I like. It’s something I inherited from my mom: less a fear of standing still (though part that), more an itchiness to continue exploring. Life passes so quickly and the world is so huge — why not see as much as possible? Not that Somerville and Cambridge cover such a vast range of Planet Earth, but you know, baby steps…
I wish I could tell E. which song to play first when he DJs the wedding he’s attending right now in Cali, but he’s DJing at this very moment, I think, so it’s too late to shout over the midwest, “Hey! Play Love and some verses by Iron & Wine!” Oh well.