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as the days get hotter i find myself uncharacteristically settling into the idea of sticking around, possibly planting a root or two. silly daydreams of faraway adventures are still, and will always, brew in my mind. my fantasies are ever-present and i feel that one day, i don't know when, they will burst out of me, throwing me into a last minute soul-searching frenzy on the beaches and mountain trails abroad. south america is still as tempting as ever and i yearn for the unfamiliarity of another language and the confusion of navigating my way through new territory. possibilities seem much more abundant out there, in that big, bastardly, open-faced world of which i've seen only a tiny sliver. i have no strong ties to any one place at the moment. so why aren't i constantly going?

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