I’m finally back.

Been gone for two months and most people who know me would probably think I’ve been dying to come back. But I’m not. Someway somehow I’m not.

Being in China and Australia just made me feel so free. Like there wasn’t anything there holding me back. And now that I’m back, it’s like there’s an invisible pair of hands around my neck, slowly but surely cutting off the air from my lungs.

I really wish I could just up and go away forever. And I’m insanely jealous of everyone that made it overseas to study. I really am. I don’t regret not going on my parents dime and I will never regret that. But all the same I wish I were somewhere else.

I guess that being back is like diving back into reality. It’s another reminder to myself that everything’s slowly falling back to normal. Pretty soon school will start and it will all be the same shit, different day.

For someone who revels in the unexciting and the repetitive, this sure is a weird feeling.