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lola vs powerman & the moneygoround, part 1

dear z, 

i’ve been running & running since i was old enough to do my own thing & yet, i never actually run. i’ll disappear for hours & yet i’m still home when the metaphorical street lamps come on. 

i’d run off when i couldn’t figure out what to do after highschool & sit in those dark theatres by myself miles away from home & when i stopped talking to all my friends sophomore year i just went to all those skeevy house shows & when i was raped instead of working through it i just fucked off to college & when i had a breakdown i got on the bus & ran away for like an hour & in spite of everything here i am, full time college student with 2 jobs & i will never actually get away. 

i realised last night that yes, it’s absolutely true that the only fucking reason i’m still living between college & my parents house & why i have these jobs is fucking because it’s what i’m supposed to do. i can’t drop out of college because it’s important for my cousin to see someone she looks up to actually go to school & because my parents have instilled it in me that there is really nothing else. 

i just want to run!! to go!! get the fuck out!! i want to actually fucking escape in a way that matters & i don’t want to fucking go to school.

z, i so wish i could just get in a car & drive & figure it out as i go but i don’t think i can do it alone & there is not a single person in this world who would come with me. sure, i know so many who’d say they would, but none of them really, honest to god would. 

yeah, you could say i could make it alone but i don’t think i could even fucking afford it, if nothing else. an $86 room at the super 8 is only 43 for 2 people, but it’s fucking $86 for one person. i’d have to buy a car too. and gas. and whatever else & it’s just too much for me to handle alone.

z, i think i have to take a semester off or i will just fucking throw myself off a bridge into the connecticut river. 

but hey, i’ll talk to you later. 

all my love, 


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