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I am seventeen-and-a-half years old, and at a crossroads

Last weekend, I walked down a quiet street in Manhattan (they do exist), and thought about the chain of events that led me here.

I ran away from home when I turned 16. Now-- This wasn't a traditional running-away-in-the-heat-of-anger. Rather a well thought out and meticulously planned escape, so much so that even my better judgement was ineffectual against its rationality.

I applied to school. Got a full scholarship. Packed my bags, my Trinitron, and left-- my parents could not stop me, and I think they were afraid to-- for good reason. At the time, my sister had cancer, and my parents had more to worry about than me.

Only later did I figure out that this was the point of no return. I now had an education, a place to live, a job. Once the thrill of independence wore off, the realization of independence set in.

Now I've wandered off again, and found myself in New York City doing kind of well for myself, I've done selfless research, and then sold out to the man. I've been entertained by all that New York has to offer and entertained all sorts of grandiose and righteous ideas (much like this writeup). I've met people, some bright eyed youths straight out of the corn-fed midwest, eager and hopeful, and some products of the ghetto-made-good who have 'lived' more than I have had I been 40.

I've lived in extremes, sometimes with no money, sometimes with too much. I've known famous people, and spent birthdays alone. I've done the things expected of all of those burnt-out I-know-the-truth-at-seventeen prodigies. What do I have left?

I sometimes wish I'd just stayed at home, and spent some time with my parents before our relationship so abruptly changed from their being caregivers to equals. They're thinking of selling our house in Pittsburgh and moving to Manhattan, and I'm trying to convince them not to. I was raised in that house from when I was born-- Even though I know I can't go home again, if that house is still there, a piece of my childhood still exists. Unconditional love still exists.

I jumped into the river, too many times to make it home. I'm out here on my own, and drifting all alone.

I think it's time to get my head out of the clouds.

Vote this down, if you like-- I don't ramble like this too often=)

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