Sometimes, in the middle of the night, or a bit later (normally two AM), I get the urge to run away. I do not know why. Maybe it isn’t because of my homelife (My homelife is great, I have a wonderful, caring family), but perhaps it is the sheer thrill of being on the run. The thrill of being free, the thrill of being saught after. The feeling of sneaking around, miles from home after taking the bus to someplace you’ve never seen. The feeling of seeing your face on a newspaper, a grand label reading “MISSING” over it.
I want to be missing.
I want people to wonder where I am.
I want to ghost out for a while, only to come back after some “miracle”.
I want that.
I want it so bad.
