Walking Home

Readers, let me tell you, life continues to surprise, but I think that's the point. Walking home on a warm and humid and close night in England, with unlimited options opening up before me and nearly unlimited, if misplaced, faith in my own ability to solve problems, and literally no ideas about goals or nascent goals or how to make a life out of all the options, and it's okay. It's actually better than okay, and it's better than before I knew I had no idea. Walking home I peeped through some windows and saw some girlie posters and some disembodied arms holding cigarettes and thought back to a few minutes before when I'd had a frank conversation with my onetime greatest nemesis and it was still alright. The summer is opening up before me, full of safe adventure and fun with my oldest and dearest friends and no pressure and no progress and no ideas for afterwards, and everything is in flux and I'm at peace.