I've burnt out, and I blame the excessive number of nights out I've been having of late, coupled with the hellish, hyperventilation-inducing week I've just survived. I didn't see all this coming. Now I just want to stay home and do absolutely nothing.

The past couple of days, I've been reminiscing. I don't understand how I can be back here and surrounded by my family (and a smattering of friends) and still feel so empty inside sometimes. It's very bizarre. Yes I am a creature of comfort to some extent. I like to be with familiar people, people I am comfortable with. I like to go back to nostalgic old haunts. But lately I feel that it is only when I step out of my comfort zone that I am truly alive.

I can't wait for my next trip out. I want to feel a frisson on an unfamiliar street. I want anonymity. I want to feel the thrill and the excitement of exploring something, and re-orientating myself in relation to a new place. I never feel as alive as when all this happens. And right now, I want this more than anything else.

posted by beautiful at 5:27 am