I am not bitter. Much.

Another friend has jetted across to the other side of the world, and I am here, growing withered and old and jaded. Oka, I'm 24, but i'm a drama queen, so shut up.

Sydney is a beautiful place to live, especially now with the 30 degree days and the stormy, balmy evenings. There is nothing like feeling the ocean breeze and listening to the cicadas, while the day gives over to twilight. I have the whole summer ahead of me (well, overlooking the endless 7.5 hours a day of corporate screwdom, but who's counting?). I'm going to buy a wetsuit and make an ass of myself at Coogee beach on a shark biscuit. I'm going to go back to Little Country Hometown for Christmas and stuff myself with roasted animal and random processed-high-in-sugar-glycemic-nightmare Christmas junkfood. Hell, I'm even going to make sure that I get to watch that ridiculous fucking Chevy Chase movie where he covers his house in lights and the cat gets electricuted while chewing wires. I may even pick a fight with my sister in law, but that's become tradition, much like leaving beer and cookies out for Santa.

But all the while, in the back of my mind, will be that one thought that echoes like a song you can't get out of your head; I should be on a plane. I should be on a plane. I should be on a plane.

I will get on a plane, you know. If it's the last thing I do (although it better bloody not be, because quite frankly if I anticipate going and finally get on my way only to die in a crash, there will be some WREAKING of VENGEANCE.)

6 more months. That's the plan. I aim to be in Europe in August.

What keeps me here now? Commitments. Or is that a cop out? Ok, i'll concede a bit of fear too, why not, it's best to cover bases.

What am i afraid of? I'm not sure exactly. Right now, I'm afraid I'm not taking an active enough part in making my own decisions. I feel sidelined when it comes to my own life. I feel at odds with myself, because, like a true Gemini, I can see two sides to everything, and want to defend both. I know that going away would change me and my life, probably in the best way possible, so therefore I will do it.

On the other hand - if i waited - just a little longer - what would i achieve? If i leave now (or in six months) what will i come back to? This routine i have may not be perfect, but it's what i know. Maybe adventure isn't going to make me happier anyway.

But - I always wanted to write about the world. I believe that means i need to see a little more of it.