Becca wants

Spring. Outside. To be free. Sunshine. Fun. More time. More space in my head – or at least some kind of plug to stop things falling out. To be able to think clearly. To get wasted. To smile. To laugh. To fall in love again. To shout. To scream. To have someone listen. To talk. To share. A tidy house. Someone to cook for me. To know why everything good is bad for you. My friends to be closer. To run. To jump. To play. To be 24. To be 16. To be 12. To take acid for the first time. To know if fixing the past fixes the future or if fixing the future fixes the past. To understand physics. To hate photosynthesis a little bit less. To know why all the female lecturers I meet have massive chips on their shoulders. Lemonade sherbet. Old friends. New friends. To think less. To think more. To understand. To know. To reason. To fight. To dance. To be able to escape from me for a day, a week, a year. To be needed less. To be needed more. Excitement. Emotion. To be somewhere else.

Indecision

I'm trying to reach a decision. Actually, I think I've probably already reached the decision, I'm just not really sure how to implement it. I know what I should do. I know what I want do. I'm also fully aware of what everyone else would tell me to do if I were to bother discussing it with them (only I won't because I already know exactly what they would say given the opportunity to add some input into the situation). Only I'm not really sure that should, could, would and want all lead in the same direction.