Ahh fall…the time of endings and beginnings both, lovely saturated colors and sleeping in too late, coffee and hoodies, crisp nights and short days. I get the urge to travel in the fall and spring more strongly than the rest of the year combined because it was our habitual move time. It was about to get too cold somewhere and just right somewhere else, and it usually meant floating away to the next spot like dandelion fluff. It gets a little easier each year to stay put, as I grow older and more settled. I hate saying older and settled. Those two words were never part of my life-view. I wanted change, constant excitement, wandering, new experiences, never-stay-put and a hundred different loves. I still want all those things except for all the loves. It makes me too scattered and takes up too much time. I’m happy with my one, and 10-20 non-person-type loves, like beer and pizza and Halloween.
Is it just that we settle for less as we grow up? Or is it that we are more content with life as it is right now? I like to think it’s the latter, but who the fuck knows. Settle for too long and all you end up with is dead.
Roads on Her Face 