There's a lot I want to forget about for now. I'm sleep deprived. It's well past midnight. So much of my time has been consumed by meaningless words and actions, immoral decisions, people I once fell in love with, people I wasted all my time with, in the past year. Maybe I'm too young, but I can't imagine myself in 20 years. I try not to wonder what I'll have ended up doing with my life by then. I don't like to. I don't like to worry whether I'll be stuck in New Hampshire for the rest of my life, possibly in this same musty, ladybug-infested attic or painting the new walls of my new bedroom somewhere in Iceland. I don't like to worry how close or far I will be from family or who will still be around when it's my turn to be half a century old. Everything feels like a big build-up that never reaches its turning point. Every argument begins and finishes the same way. I want to imagine an amazingly sunny day. No wind. No clouds. Just a plethora of green and many colourful houses, like the ones in Newburyport. I want to jump in this image with my Schwinn and ride past everything.