You're only as healthy as you feel.

Since my parents spent the day splurging at the Barona buffet, I decided to walk home after I got out of school. What I’m supposed to consider “home” is on the opposite side of town, so I spent a good part of yesterday catching up with my town of residence.

I cut through an area of townhouses, filled with winding roads and empty areas of grass. It’s funny how I used to go to this place all the time to see my friend and hang out with him. He still lives in town, but I have no idea where. I haven’t heard much from him recently, except for the fact that he still smokes and drinks (and lies about people too) despite the fact that he’s still jobless. I miss the days when we would get mexican food afterschool on Fridays and play video games at my house. It was so eerie how quiet the area was. Im used to hearing the sounds of acoustic guitars coming from backyards and rap music blasting out of passing cars. As I was leaving that area, I saw the letters “FTP” on a stop sign. I chuckled a little. Those guys always loved to leave their mark wherever they went.

As I continued through town, I passed by my old high school as the kids were getting out. A lot of them were saying things that I was very shocked to hear for some odd reason. Ugh. It’s weird to think that I’m considered to be alumni of that high school. I’m not entirely proud of it, but I don’t exactly hate that title. I’m happy for what I achieved there academically, but as for socially…eh. I try not to think of the things that happened in my Junior and Senior year. They weren’t entirely pretty. I don’t intend to go to any high school reunions either. Even if somehow I managed to achieve some kind of status that was worthy of flaunting to my old classmates, I still wouldn’t go. Jeez, it hasn’t even been two years since I graduated. It feels like ten years have gone by since then.

Anywho, I also passed by this house that was partially destroyed a few months ago when some lady crashed into it while under the influence. The house (as well as two cars) burst into flames, and I still remember seeing that plume of smoke as my friends and I were returning from Comic-Con that day. The house is being reconstructed now, and in a few months it’ll look like it never even happened. Despite what people think, I think time really does heal all wounds.

The last stop I made before I reached home was a neighborhood park that I filmed a few projects at before. No one was there, so I decided to take sit on the swings for a while. My iPod seemed to know what was needed to set the mood, and started to play nuance1, one of the songs used in Minecraft. This breeze rolled in, and it seemed like everything else in the world was silent, just for a few seconds. The moment was no less than perfect. I don’t have enough moments like this in my life, where I can really look at where I’m at and be grateful for the past and optimistic for the future.

But as beautiful as this place is, I can’t be here forever.

I’m going to have to let it go if I want to keep going.