I've been packing/cleaning most of today. And done a fairly good job of it. Until about an hour ago, when I got that God Damn It I'm Leaving And Don't Entirely Want To feeling. Which leads me into frozen moping.
I hate Buddhism. Desire for permanence leads to suffering is where it starts, yes? I want to stay here and be indie rock buddies with Cyn. I want to be able to get my own place and decorate it. You know, with these mysterious things called "posters." One day I would like to own "bookshelves." I would like to get my video games in some sort of organization that is not "randomly shoved onto a spindle while the boxes are in storage in California." But not only do I want all that, I want my college friends around too, so I can go play Soul Calibur 2 whenever I want to. And have everyone I know living within a five-minute walk. And not have to have a job. See, the thing I hate about Buddhism is that it's fucking true.
The moving thing continues to get to me. In the last two and a half years, I have moved cities four times. I will be moving at least three more times, possibly four, in the next year. My first move is back to Ohio to finish my studies at Antioch. But before that, I'm off to see my parents in Sacramento. After my studies are finished, I have to do two more work things for Antioch. Summer should be spent overseas, or if not, somewhere doing a "cross-cultural" co-op. Then I'm hoping to finish things off in Chicago in the fall, at the Newberry library, where I will test my hypothesis that I must stay in academia without having to go to grad school.
And after that, I'm fucked. And free. But hey, I've got the year ahead planned out. Doesn't stop me being depressed now, though. Have I mentioned that I don't like flying?