opus 465

I'm in a very weird place in my mind.
it feels as if Chris and I are taking a break... it feels as if I'm taking a break, from real life... sitting in an old pub on the edge of downtown Athens... there are people. everywhere. for them, this is real life. this isnt their escape or hiatus, but their world. I find myself growing jealous... the indie life. the small pubs. cute solo guitarists. earthy. soulful. it feels... nice.

but ultimately I have to go home. this isnt my home. my life. this is fake. this is a dream... walking through the streets of this dream is slightly breathtaking. I feel like my hands are tied to something back home. and while ultimately I know, it's Chris... what I dont know, is, do I want it to be that way? are my hands really tied, or are they just being delicately held?

do I feel bound?
or loved...

cherished,
or trapped...?
thoughts.