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The things I would give to be back in that hammock with you

1 week

Maybe it’s just the weakened immune system talking, but I’ve just about had my fill of being 4268 miles away from home. I miss the feeling of autonomy. Driving myself to rotations, driving myself to work, choosing who I want to see on which given day, choosing what we should eat or do, and subsequently doing so. Yet, everything I do here seems to be contingent upon the others around me. I feel restricted in my options for… basically everything. The same food options with the same 34 people, only 6 of which I speak to on a regular basis. Not that I necessarily hate this scenario, but it’s something I can’t escape. At this point, I’ve given up the notion that I should be entertaining those around me on a 24 hour basis. I become exhausted from traveling so often, but I become even more exhausted when I’m not. It’s no wonder I’ve grown so lethargic. (And the cold certainly is not helping anyone.) I find myself feeling sorry for not being able to be at my best for others, and yet, I don’t feel sorry at all. There have been plenty of days in NY in which I wanted to do absolutely nothing with myself. I shouldn’t feel like I’m doing anything wrong by feeling this way in Rome as well. The truth is, I sorely wish I was home, and I don’t feel bad admitting so. 

what a lovely place

Can’t believe this place is actually real

Can’t believe this place is actually real

And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long. – Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath 
I’ll never be busy enough to not miss you. m.k. 
…if these years have taught me anything it is this: you can never run away. Not ever. The only way out is in. – Junot Díaz, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao 

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