Ok….to clarify for my two maybe three followers. This is not in reference to masturbation.
I am moving…again. As my name “Traveler” indicates. I have no anchor. Therefore, this week has been a ball buster getting my house ready for market.
( My happy yard wlork face)
My next location is near the Atlantic. Twenty minutes from the beach. However, I am already planning my next move. For various reason I will go into in later blogs, there are doubts this experiment will work.
I have been nomadic all my life. Longest I have been at any one location was six years….sixth through twelfth grade. I actually moved once then but remained in the same area.
I like change. Fresh starts. New beginings. All the phrases that would sounds good here. Or at least that is what I say and believe on the surface. In reality, below the surface. The hidden me. I am afraid.
I am afraid of settings roots. I am afraid of attachment. I am afraid of people knowing ….me. I am afraid of hurt, loss and loneliness. I do not want to open up or be known. Yet, I want all these things.
So I move on. Claiming a Pirates life. Roaming with no anchor. Pretending it is not lonely.
In reality… I to old for it. To alone for it. Maybe I will find my anchor in time. I hope so. Before time is gone.