back to it

I hate leaving places, especially my family's, I prefer arriving. Any place, though. I hate leaving my own place in order to arrive in my family's place. Just the idea of it, I think: leaving vs arriving, there's something about that, on a deeper level. Going away. I hate it. Which is ironic, since I'm a really restless person and I'm always longing to get away, compulsively relocating, need to keep moving, any forward motion counts, even if it's within a circle on a larger scale.. I've spent a week in my parents house. And worked from home on my short film and the TV assignments for school, although I've had some technical difficulties and haven't been nearly as productive as I'd planned to be.. But I've bought my first two LP records ever! Iron Maiden's "Fame" and an Blue Oyster Cult. I've also fallen in love with the whole vinyl thing and the superior sound of them compared to CD's and mp3 and spent all of yesterday sampling my parents old collection. I discovered Jefferson Airplane, Creedence and Velvet Underground, rediscovered T Rex and Deep purple, as well as Meatloaf although I never really fell out of love with him to begin with.. I also discovered, doing some geeksearch on Wiki that my favourite Sabbath album is made after Ozzy wad kicked out, so he's not the singer in those songs! Got an audition tonight that I'm regretting ever applying for.. Not that I'd ever get the part since their looking for a fit and androgynous person, but still..