i fell asleep last night with the same weird feeling at the pit of my stomach as i felt when i woke up this morning. maybe it was because a large group of drunkards woke me up at 3am in the hope of including me in their drunken phone-calling ritual.

or maybe i'm just being weird and crazy. or maybe i'm just cranky. or maybe i'm just nervous, anticipating a lot of things. or maybe i'm jealous of something/someone. or maybe i just wish i was somewhere, doing something else. or maybe i’m just thinking too much.

whatever it is, i don't like the feeling. and it's been sticking with me for awhile. makes it so i can't sit still, i always want company but nobody quite fills the void. i want to do things but at the same time, i’d rather sit in my room, buried within the pages of somebody else’s story.

i guess most of this is cuz i really miss cali. i continuously deny myself from accepting the longevity of my stay in ny. the only thing i live for is the next time i’ll be on a plane bound for somewhere i feel more comfortable. a place where summer actually includes sunshine, where there is such a thing as an open road, and where my friends make me laugh so hard my face hurts.

and then i daydream of all the weekends i could possibly squeeze in a cross-country voyage. but realize that the money i earn doesn’t have the ability to fulfill these daydreams. it seems so discouraging and disheartening sometimes. and i guess that's why i'm writing this sad blog -- to vent and come to terms with reality. cuz there's nothing i can do about anything except wake up every morning, get through the day, and repeat it all over again.