What is it that bothers me about that? It's not just my parents. It's anyone. It bothers me terribly. I scribble on my paper, erase, trying to make sense of my conflicting desires and disgusts. Loneliness. Hunger for total independence. Distaste for that hunger.
My hands are in my hair again, trying to pull the right ideas out of my brain. I get up and wander aimlessly. But I disguise the wander as purposeful pacing, to catch up with my fleet thoughts. But I'm also trying to outrun desire and loneliness and impatience. Sometimes, I'm even trying to race time, and force it to move quicker and bring me the future sooner. I want new challenges, new obstacles, new troubles, new joys... I'm tired of the same things coming to visit me over and over lately. I ache for a change of pace...
Pace... my pacing's purpose, shifted again. My thoughts are changing and evolving rapidly. There's so much going on up there lately. Never quiet, but never loud. Simply neverending.
My change of pace, because I'm so unused to stability. I can't stay in the same place and position for too long. I never have. There's never been a sense of home, roots, security, certain future... it's unwanted. Constant upheaval. CONSTANT UPHEAVAL. My need. My thirst. My ache. My motivation. My push.
I'm getting carried away by now. I'm going to wander back down into my chair at the dining room table. I'll settle down and work again.