Fine Film of Memory

Sleep, my old friend, you elude me still. Where have you gone? Every time you leave it leads to something big happening in my life. What new development is this? Yesterday was the first day of fall, and fall came in like I feel it should always come in, with a cool gust of wind and clouds pregnant with rain. It rains often now, and my days are categorized yet again by day-long treks between the ivory canyons of academia. I have found a place to live that feel s like home finally, but again I am beginning to become conscious of the return of the restlessness that once characterized my entire being. I haven’t been surprised in awhile, I have trouble sitting still again, and I’m paranoid of shoes that fit to tight. Subconsciously, I think I’m trying to let myself know that I am ready to go, ready to move. Destinations then puzzle me, where to and for how long?
We were all going to pack up and move away, remember? I never envisioned myself staying here, but the time to decide got closer and I felt like there was too much in my hometown to leave behind. Now I wonder if that was precisely why I should have left it behind. Is there too much here? Who would I be if I had left a long time ago? Though I am happy and I enjoy what I do here, sometimes it seems like this whole town is coated with a fine film of memory. I want to know what it’s like to create a new town full of memory.