-
-
The one thing that made me go was wanting more. I saw more all the time. My neighbors had more. Folks on the other side of town had a lot more. And people on TV, they had more than more. They had the most. I figured I could have more too if I left. So I went to college and got more education. I got a job behind a desk and got more money. I traveled and got to see more of the world. Along the way I picked up more plates, more rugs, more books, more towels, more underwear, more degrees, more kitchen gadgets, and more debt. A lot more debt. I'm forty this year, and I'd be lying if I didn't say that I still want more. More drives us. More keeps us alive. But for me at least, more has changed. Now I'd like more time to write. I'd like to hang out more with my boyfriend and our dog. I'd like more plants in my yard, and I'd like to hike more. But most of all, I'd like to go home more. I'd like to spend more time in the place I lived before I wanted more.
-