Wandering

It was around noon when I woke up. I spent my time reading The Catcher In The Rye for about an hour. It's a really good book but for some reason my heart really wasn't in it today. I went to Danté's house but he was still asleep. And Raff, well, I dunno where Raff is. I just walked around for a bit, and eventually wandered over to the school. Now it's 2:31 and I'm waiting for the bell to ring. 

As I sit here, waiting for Tristan and Orlando, my thoughts suddenly turn to my future, about what I'm gonna do next. Yes, I've got lots of time, I know, but I've been getting these kinds of thoughts a lot lately. Everyday just seems so... tedious sometimes. Not that I don't like my life. It's great. But I do the same thing everyday. What about when I'm older? I eat, I read, I wander around town, and I sleep. I do plan on getting a job soon but will I be doing this for the rest of my life? Sometimes, even when I'm in a wide open space, I feel so trapped. 

I remember when I was five, several Roma families had camped out by Danté's creek. I know the Roma were once referred to as gypsies because of their nomadic lifestyle, although now they live a settled life, in North America at least. Despite settling down, they still maintain their culture, and I remember being so amused by their colourful clothing and jewelry. Now that I think of them, I wonder what it's like to be a nomad, always travelling, always moving on to another place. They seem so free, not only to move around, but also free of worries and sadness. 

Maybe some day I'll take off, too. Not forever, of course. But I wanna see the world, different places, people...

The school bell rings, but I start walking in the opposite direction. If I wait around for Tristan, I already know what'll happen.

I'll explain to him when I get back.

Author's Note

I realize that my protagonist does not know the reality of the persecution that most nomads face, so please do not take this as ignorance on my part.