I shouldn't get too explicit about this here, but: as of the end of this week, I will have made my year. One full year on the street. I've seen five people die, been assaulted three times, and crashed twice. I've gotten a lot of free food and made a lot of new friends. I've learned far, far more about my city, its places and its people, than I ever knew before.
It's changed me. Some. On one level, I'm physically stronger, mentally quicker, emotionally stabler than I ever was before, and I've gained reams of knowledge and miles of perspective. But most of the time I'm the same goofy slutty childish asshole I was going in.
I'll have to move soon. I haven't really thought this through as much as I should have, but I've gotten about as far as I can go on this career track in this area. It's been fun, I like this city, but I can't stay in this job forever, it's entry-level and I'm getting about ready to advance. I don't know--at all--where I'll be going. Boston? Any new city will be a shock, it'll take a lot of money and work and time just to get back to the standard of living I have now, but at least I know a few people in Boston and I've got some history there. Anywhere else I'd just be throwing darts at a map.
This is hardly a declaration that I'm moving to Boston. If I do it'll be months from now and I might not at all. I might move to Spokane. Or Anchorage. Or, fuck, I don't know, Albuquerque. I hear Albuquerque's nice. Don't know anyone there, but I only know two or three people in the other places so it's a pretty close running.
Right now I don't have to decide yet. What I do have to do now is exercise and study and save money. I can't live like I'm done growing, because I'm not. I'm getting ready for something better. I have to make myself better.
Man. I'm tired just thinking about this. It's been crazy. It's going to be crazier.