Existential Pining

As I scroll through Instagram and look at photos of people I no longer see or particularly care about, I become a tad bit existential. What does this all mean? I want to meet more people, get more involved in there lives, get more aquainted with all the whole world with it’s many colors, accents, and faces.

I want to travel.

I want to pack up my car and my boyfriend and my little life and leave.


That is not what I am to do.

I am to live the American life right now. I can begin making connections slowly, and leave eventually.

For now I am called to stay.

And that existentially, experientially, sucks.

But I must believe it is better.



Too often in life, we want to catch the next train or jump the next flight.
We’re so afraid of being late we end up not being able to jump heights.
I’m not afraid of death, and even in Fourth grade I remember I never was.

All I’ve ever been afraid of is not living, of not being significant to someone, in someway, somehow.

Don’t be afraid to love and laugh and cry if you want to. Experience it. Suck the marrow out of life. Don’t go off the deep end and swing naked on a wrecking ball, but don’t be afraid to try something new.

Just breathe in the existential possibilities of passionate life.