11. Wonderlust

(don’t worry, I know the word. It’s clever, get it?)

I often wonder,

(get it now?)

more now than when things were comfortable
If I went to get groceries, but instead of going back
to an apartment, in a city that feels cramped despite its
ego
What if I filled up at the gas station. Then took the nearest freeway
probably the 101, drove until I had to pick whether or not to turn around and go back
to the apartment in the biggest small town you’ve ever lived in

Instead drove through the desert. A place I’m reluctant to call home, but still feels so familiar. The heat probably.
What if I found out what was on the other side of that swath of sand and warm colors that remind me of the boat, named after the woman and home to old memories. What if I found something that will make me turn around
or

I wonder where the trees start. I find myself missing trees.
I wonder how long it would take to hit the other coast.
Remember, if the water is on your left, you’re going south.
I wonder what it’d be like to spin off my axis
concluding that, since I have made it this far,
I should probably just keep going.
I wonder if I sold my car, would it make me enough for *ahem*
a
“casual-one-way-fucking-off”
I wonder if I’d be missed
by the trees. Or would they grow out of spite, and envy me
for stealing their idea in the first place.

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