I Don't Want to Be a Dead End Human

Shug, what makes you happy? Better yet, what feeds your soul? Is it drugs, always chasing your next high? Is that who you are when no one is looking, is that what your soul aches for? Do you long to not feel lost anymore? Do you want a place to feel at home? Happy and peaceful? A place you can rest. Or do you want that adrenaline rush? I yearn for a place to run to. A place to unpack and call home. I ache for a good book and the perfect cup of coffee. The idea of learning something new and life-changing, of being a different person than I was yesterday. Every day, more sweet, more kind, more understanding. A chance to feel my feet in the sand, the wind in my hair. I want to live and then come home to my porch and talk about all the living. I want to go. Just go. Japan, Amsterdam, Australia, Madagascar. Sylvia Plath said she wanted to be everyone, a preacher, a prostitute, and come back and write about her experiences. I want that. I don't want to spend every day in a haze of unremembrance. I don't want to spend every day living the same life, especially without someone to make it interesting, until I wake up and realize I have no more days left. Everything I have ever learned about how to live, I learned from you. You are too smart to waste away in a dead end life, to be nothing and nobody. You were my first and perhaps most solid definition of love, you were the reason I started writing, the reason I wanted to be a good person. People who are so unique that they have the power to change someone's lives are very rare. Don't diminish and squander that. It's important.