the lines are fading in my kingdom

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village though;

He will not see me stopping here 

To watch his woods fill up with snow. 

My little horse must think it queer

To stop without a farmhouse near

Between the woods and frozen lake

The darkest evening of the year. 

He gives his harness bells a shake

To ask if there is some mistake. 

The only other sound's the sweep

Of easy wind and downy flake. 

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.

But I have promises to keep, 

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep. 

i can't wait until it is late fall and early winter. i function so much better in the cold. it just suits me. it in fact suits me so well, the freezing wind, the falling snow, the icy walks, the cold skin, the bundling up, the warming up, that i sometimes think i must be a cold person since i prefer it so much. i must be frigid. 

i will be the ice queen in the far-up north with the huskies named after wolves or the wolves at her door. 

i might even prefer wolves. 

they would keep the people away. 

Listen: lately, i have been feeling like the walking dead. not even a zombie, just a thorough apparition of my body. my mind and my soul feel so far away from me lately that i feel as if thats all i am: just a body, a machine. just meat on bones supported by simmering internal combustion and that i'm not really here. i have letters to write and to send, e-mails to answer and phone calls to make, hang outs to be planned but i feel as if i just can't bring my body to do any of those things because my mind is not in it. i can't do them because i'm not here, i'm just a machine on an assembly line doing my assigned part. and what is the point of that? especially with letters, phone calls, e-mails and hang outs with those i love?

i feel incredibly lonely but i do nothing to counter-act or change that loneliness. do i not know how? do i not want to? is it really loneliness? is this just wallowing?

i don't really know.

but a lot of this summer has just made me feel like some freak, 

some visitor from another planet.

a loner and drifter from my family. 

at times like this, i have this immense desire to leave. to just go. anywhere. the fact that it doesn't matter is for the best. i just want to go. i want to pack a bag and blow all my money on a plane ticket to a faraway state of foreign country where i will settle for 6 months at a time before i go again. 

a nomadic tendency, as i like to call them. to keep moving, keep changing. 

to just 

Go. 

...and everything with wings is restless, aimless, drunk and dour.