The great escape?

Recently my adopted home country has been pissing me off more and more. The weather is crap, dealing with any government organisation is painful and the small island has been feeling tinier by the day. I'm not one to stay in a crappy situation forever but the issue is where to go from here?

The last time I felt like this was nearly ten years ago in Finland. I was so miserable that the decision of leaving was easy. I wanted out and it didn't really matter where to. Now I'm older, more careful (read: scared) and keep wondering if I really will have the motivation needed to adjust to yet another new life.

I keep saying to others that eventually I will just reach that same point where life in the current situation just becomes too unbearable. Yet I keep thinking whether this is just some form of mantra I tell myself to keep it together. Maybe I should stop talking about plans and actually start to actively look for something else.

In all this I miss those friends who I used to confide to with these things. I have been quiet about things for so long that if I suddenly come out with 'hey I want to leave this relatively comfortable life for the unknown', they will be pretty sure to shoot me down if not section me. So I'm left alone with these thoughts and with no clear point where to start.

To make matters more complicated, I recently started to go out with someone who's planning to flee the island fairly soon. This has been somewhat encouraging but I can't follow him for the sake of being together either. That would just be a recipe for disaster. And I think I've had enough of that for a while now.

Imma back yo

So here's the deal. I haven't been a very good blogger or writer of any kind in the last year or two. I could go on about how I needed a break or that my life was somehow so miraculously interesting that I just didn't have time to share my somewhat irrelevant thoughts with the general public of the interwebs.

No, the truth is that at one stage, things just got so shit that I couldn't bear to even write it down to you complete strangers. I guess, in a way, it would have meant that I was admitting the pure horror I was living in. And that, my friends, is no way to live a perfectly formed tale of horrors.

As much as I would love to share all those gruesome details, I still think too little time has passed. Or perhaps I'm just not drunk enough yet. Whatever the case is, this is my grande comeback to the wonderful world of writing down shit that no one reads. Enjoy