Inside

In my head, throughout the day, I have all of these witty things to write about.
Why is it that whenever I am finally able to sit and write I cannot remember a single thing?
Really shouldn't be a surprise given how incredibly scatter-brained I've become over the past few months.

Since my return I've actually been lucky enough to see a number of individuals I knew from my first time here.
It has been an uplifting experience, a much needed one.
To know that four years have passed and to hear that I haven't changed a bit is kind of neat.
I always thought it was neat how people would comment on my mom looking more like my sister than my mother.  It's true.  I also think about how circumstance, environment and different life experiences would probably not afford me the same compliment if I were to have a daughter.  I am much too old for that now.

My heart weighs heavy, and I've so much to do before the burden is lifted.
My days are filled with thoughts; my thoughts are full of memories.  Some good and some bad.  Of this place and the people within...and the people without.
A man helped me with my groceries yesterday, and he noticed my license plate.  I explained to him where I'd been and why I was here.  I also noted that I'd been here before.  His response was, "Does it feel like coming home?"
I wish.  I feel, on the inside, mostly on the outside. 
I need more!  I want more! from this life.  I just have to get to gettin' and make it happen...here goes.
BUT
if free will is the illusion i think it is, aren't we all just predestined to be what we will be?  regardless of make or let?
maybe i am just making excuses for not being who i thought i would be at this point in my life.

Neither witty, nor interesting.  Whatever

Sleep eludes me and so i write