Staying & Going

It's happened again, Jenny.
I've gotten myself stuck again.
Not that I'm complaining. Not that I would ever complain.
But here I am, still in Athens.
It's like Barcelona, but with even less to do. It's just purely relaxing, you see.
I just can't bring myself to give it up.
Every night I drink countless ouzos at the hostel bar downstairs, on top of countless beers. And I suppose I, too, have become a bit attached.
So attached, I suppose, if you would like to use that word, that I had to pay $100 to change my flight.
Silly. I know.
But I didn't want to go to Rome anyway. I was just leaving Athens because I thought to myself "I probably should leave Athens." It wasn't out of any desire to leave, just the notion that it's what people do. They leave.
Maybe it's my physical incapacity to bring myself to go.
The booze has weakened my resolve.
The cigarettes have weakened my voice.
And the beds have weakened my back.
What will I do when I return to America and am unable to drink copious amounts of alcohol every night and stay up til 3,4,5 in the morning?
On that note, I must say, I recently realized that what I'm doing is giving up.
It's true, Jenny, that's what I'm doing.
I had decided within the first five days in Paris that I would give up, and I somehow stuck to that conviction rather than the first: that I should live in Paris.
Things are going to be quite different when I step off that plane onto Seattle land.
I said my goodbyes. Only to return again.
But that's me, isn't it. That is, I think, the perfect definition of me.
The one who comes back.

Top Songs:
1. The Mars Volta - Tetragammaton
2. Band of Horses - The Great Salt Lake
3. The Velvet Underground - Sunday Morning
4. The National - Mr. November
5. Interpol - Obstacle 1