
You can pack your whole life up into bags and move forward, but where are you really running to? The last days of my stay at “home” are diminishing right before my eyes. It’s been more pleasant than I had prepared myself for. The first breath into the airs of Newburyport were filled with angst and fear, I didn’t think I’d make it through three weeks. Nonetheless, Christmas was eventful and so were my days here…mostly spent with friends. Homecoming is such an experience when you’re in college. You’re never quite sure as to where you belong, but you exist within the city limits as best as you can. The placed you called home becomes just a place you stay, at least for me. I’ve talked to people that I’m in school with and they love going home -they crave it. They’ve got so much pride for their home town, whereas others just exist within theirs. Eastern Massachusetts is an experience, its much different than the Western outreaches of this great state. The people are more crass and hard, and that alone effects the entire experience of being here. I feel more at home here, but at the same time…when I am here, I feel like an outcast. It’s like you’re homeless in your own hometown. Nonetheless, it’s safe to say there is not much left for me here. Even the best friends I do have are moving out and away, and I just get frustrated by the city streets and salty air with nothing to do on a Friday night, for free. Freedom has it’s price and I’m beginning to see that it costs your weight in homelessness.

