I have this immense feeling of muted anxiety centered in my chest. If it's my destiny, I'm not sure where it's pulling me. My chest feels sort of heavy and it slightly feels like it's difficult to breathe, though I know it's not.
I had this feeling two nights before Thanksgiving, when I knew I'd be going to New York. After Tuesday night's sleep I felt fine, though all of Tuesday was enmeshed in this feeling. This feeling has been gone since.
Now it's back. I think this is the feeling I had two-and-a-half years ago, before I left for Arizona. I had several months of waiting before my departure. I had to bide my time as I counted down the months, weeks, and days before I could attempt to find myself at age twenty and five.
If this is the same feeling it must be a form of anxiety exerting itself as I finish grading for the semester, meaning I have nearly a month of wanton free time. I have plenty of things to do over the next month, but it seems my body wants me to travel. To take to the road and disappear. If only... Maybe it's really my mind. I think so. It dislikes this...static feeling.
If Charlie felt infinite, then I feel so finite.
Fuck...
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