I am ready to move, but my circumstances keep me grounded.  If I could fly I'd be out of here faster than you could blink.  I'm fine with the idea of leaving all of this shit behind, the things I own that weigh me down, the days I spend doing nothing for nobody, the people I've hurt and the people I've loved.  The only great sacrifice leaving this place would be comfort, but to be honest I don't mind waking up and not knowing where I'll land later that evening.  I don't need sleep, I'm really fine without walls, if the rain comes down then fuck it, it comes down and I dry eventually.  I guess there's just a part of me that's always been so ready for something new that I resort to reaching into the deep recesses of all of these weird wishes that I've held for so long... and now that it's all finally coming to a head I just don't know what to say without sounding crazy.  Fuck I just want to do whatever I want and fly to every country just for fun and eat a bunch of weird things that might make me throw up and live with people who like to have fun and drive other people's cars on roads and bridges and up mountains.  I don't know, I'm losing it.  Get me out of here.