My Want of a Vacation

I really, really need to get away from the bleak blank blear of Utah. Everything is gray. The newly uncovered grass is gray. I would like to pack Catherine-Michel up, and pack up a satchel with just some clothes and my notebooks and a salmagundi of my favorite pencils, and just go. To somewhere where the sun is beaming twenty-four hours a day.

I'm happy, but this place is constricting me. I'm in good moods for the most part. But I don't want to be here any more. I want to find my place somewhere un-reptilian and un-venomous. I want to feel peaceful again. Here, I'm feeling like bottled chaos. I need to get out and walk until I can't see home. And then I need to sit down with my guitar.

I need a sign, or something exciting to finally happen. I need an obvious miracle.