What Happens When I'm Not There Anymore?

So I've been thinking. 

I've only got one semester to go through this year for school and then I'm back to my wintry ole hometown. No bustling city, no spontaneous festivals or incidents, no more sidewalks packed with trendily dressed art students with tattooed arms and hands bogged down with state of the art cellphones and low-fat expensive drinks. Just my boring old humdrum hometown, safety and tranquility I'm all too use to. 

So in the beginning I was cool with that. 

Don't get me wrong. I love Chi-town. I love everything about this gritty, loud, artsy city. If I wasn't such a chicken, If I had more money and better clothes, I think I could really become one of them. Tattoos, canvas bags, ironic nomenclature. The whole shibang. But I'll be gone sooner than soon and with it all my pipe dreams of really blossoming as a young ar-teest. 

Or am I just being dramatic? Who says all that can't happen in Flint? After all, my plan is to come back eventually, but only when I have enough financial support. 'Sides I'm not the only person to ever have to take a leave of absence from school. What's the big deal? I'll be back and banging the pavement with decked out sequinned moccasin sandals in no time. Right? RIGHT?

God, I don't know. 

I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel like I was chickening out a little. Why can't I be stronger and really go out there and fight for a way to stay here? I do love it here. Not always, but I love it. I think if I gave myself a little more time I could really fit in. I do. But...I don't know. I'm scared. I'm lonely. I don't have the support of other breathing beings like I do back at home. Here it's just me, me, ME. And who am I fooling? I just don't have the strength or the courage right now to build up a network of trusted friends and associates. Right now I really want to go home, curl up in my bed cuddled next to my mom, and never leave boring old Michigan again. And then I don't. And then I want to leave that place behind and never go back. I want to become one with this city, a living breathing fixture that really, truly belongs here. 

I don't know right now. I'm at a crossroads; on one hand there's going home and getting comfortable and reluctantly going back. On another there's fighting the good fight and making sure I stay in the city and in school until THE MAN tells me my hard work just ain't enough to cut a three thousand dollar debt. 

I guess I'll figure it out in time. My netflix is awol so I suppose that leaves me a little more time for thinking. 

Then again...there are those darned pesky webcomics a callin'...

Annnnnd...I'm Here.

Am I loving it? 

Meh. 

You've been through one first day back in the city with a new roommate and board, you've been through them all. 

I'll be okay. I'll have to be. 
 

Going Back Again

So, I'm heading back to school on Saturday. 

Oh, wait, on another note I just want to put out there that no one reads this blog. At least I don't think they do. So sometimes it feels weird posting this on the internet and saying things that are obviously addressed to a supposed "audience", but for all I know no one reads this blog. Don't worry (see I'm doing it again--who the hell am I telling not to worry?) I'm not going to use this as another source of whining but sometimes I feel conflicted about posting because it's kind of weird writing stuff down, in such a public stratosphere as the internet, and nobody responds to what you're talking about. But, eh, no so different than the non-cyber world if you ask me. At least in my experience. 

Anyway, I'm leaving. I'm conflicted about this. I want to go back because it's, duh, Chicago and Chicago is awesome. But then I don't really want to leave home. Home means safety, it means not having to worry about having enough money for books and clothes that will make me look less dowdy. It means not having to constantly wonder if everyone around me THINKS I look dowdy. It means...god, it means everything. Home is a sanctuary, my mother's little cramped, three bedroom apartment is a place of refuge for me and my anxieties. I feel safe there, like nothing can hurt until I walk out the door and enter the real world. Maybe I've gotten too close to home for my own good, but there it is. I going to miss it. I'm going to miss my family. 

I'm a little afraid, I guess. Or maybe it's dread that's the prevailing emotion here.