I've Escaped Again.

Driving back from Philadelphia in the dead of the night, my brother and I saw the most beautiful city ever. It was like 2 in the morning, my mom had gotten lost for the 12th time that day, and we were driving around every town/city we saw, trying to get back home. We were on the isolated highway, in the dead of the night, and I think we both thought we had each fallen asleep. Buy when we saw the city, with the glimmering lights that seemed to sparkle off the water, we both sat up, and begged our mom to turn off there. Of course she didn't and watched it as we passed, glancing back as if we had saw Neverland. We would go on to say, if it had just been us driving we would have stopped, never thought anything about it, because the city looked like it promised so much.

Maybe it's because I have been listening to the Brokeback Mountain soundtrack all day(and saying "I wish I knew how to quit you" to my mother on the phone), but I've decided to retreat. To escape to a land of ease for awhile. Oh sure that land of ease isn't with my cowboy lover Heath Ledger or Jake Gyllenhaal. Oh sure it isn't on the Oregon Coast, for craps sake it isn't even to a really cool city of dazzling lights.

It's simply a retreat of ease I put myself through when running on empty. When I have grown restless. It is an escape into the possibilities. The possibilities that make waking up each day beautiful.

Maybe on that retreat I will dream of the sparkling city, I'll dream not of "what if" but simply of "damn that was amazing". Surprisingly the retreat seems to be into the real world, away from the sparkling city, cowboy love, and the coast of Oregon. Maybe the retreats right here, of Dead Like Me marathons late night Family Guy, and dragging myself to class every day. Maybe I'll dance in the rain, smile at a stranger, finish writing a scene for my movie, finishing studying for exams.

Retreats are fun, they allow you to escape from the "real world",but then only remind you that can't stay there forever, and that you have to re-enter it at some point. Until then I'll enjoy the simplicity of it all.

Beckett