High Ramblings about Desires

Source: Urban Dictionary: Pilot Jones

 

I want a house in the mountains. Honestly, I don’t care if it is in the Rockies or the Appalachians, or even if it is out of this country. I just want to wake up, overcast sky, occasional rain showers, poor a cup of coffee spiked with Kho Loui or rum, smoke a blunt or joint or two. Sit at my desk, laptop out, mountains and trees gazing at me through the window directly behind the desk, cigarette hanging from my mouth, and start writing. I want to be a writer, I want my career to be as an author. I want to be paid to sit at my desk in the mountains all day and just enter another world. Don’t get me wrong, there is so much on this planet I want to experience, I want to see everywhere, I thirst for adventure and journeys. But I also have my head in the clouds. I want to see all these places so I can use them in stories. I want to feel all these emotions so I can transmit them to paper in my house in the mountains.

 

-High Ramblings of a Stoner

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High Ramblings about Family

I don’t know. It’s weird when there are three kids. Well, I guess, not weird. But I bet someone can relate to this. Like when u have siblings, you get salty about little shit. Like passwords. So my parents use our names as passwords, as I’m sure some of u can relate to. So like my parents have two passwords and like for some reason they always use something related to my bro or my sis. I don’t have a password using anything related to me. So yeah, I know its petty silly and ridiculous, but I’m not afraid to say that I am salty about that shit.

-High Ramblings of a Stoner

High Ramblings about Home

I never really had a home. Not a birthplace where I can say I grew up, not even an actual house where I spent enough time for me to consider it home. I guess what I’m saying is I don’t have a specific place where I associate enough crucial memories for me to consider it home. My home would be spread out over dozens of places. By the way, I’m a military brat who has moved at least every four years since I was born.

I don’t ever picture myself having a home. I was born a wanderer, and I feel like that’s how I’ll stay.

Though if I were to ever settle in an area, you know pick a place where I want to die, then I guess the type of house I’d want would be a three bedroom small house. That way I could have an art studio and a study. Or I guess maybe a two bedroom with a basement or attic. Or a one bedroom with both. All I know is home is where I have everything I need to live in a particular place for more than five years.

But will I ever find a place like that? Where my restless spirit can finally find peace? I don’t know. I may just spend my entire life traveling, moving every five years till I’m too old and sick to move anymore.

Who knows what my future holds but it’ll work out. As long as I go through life with good intentions, then I should find peace and happiness. I don’t know in what form it’ll take, but as long as I thirst for a rememberable life and make moves to accomplish it, then I can die content.

 

-High Ramblings of a Stoner