Growing up in this Valley is said to be like prison. A place where the mountains tower at such height that escape impossible. A place full of old souls. A place known for its beauty.
In the 25 years that I’ve existed on this earth I haven’t strayed far from home. When I say home I mean house and when I say house I mean the one I live in. To some, the United States is home, the city in which they dwell is home, mine is my house. In the few instances when I have traveled I’ve learned quite a few things, the most important being, Southwest Airlines first come first serve seating is more of a hassle than a convenience.
While I clanked nervously down the aisle towards my seat, looking forward briefly attempting to catch a glimpse of my soon to be elbow wars partner, I realize, that un-assigned seating is inconvenient and stupid, lack of structure makes most people anxious. That’s about it.
My destination is Phoenix, AZ . I’ve never been any further west than Ohio, and that was in a car. 5 grueling hours of someones random rancid breath. The over-weight man to the left of me snoring. The other, to the right, smacking their lips after a pre-packaged turkey sub. Touch down, thank something holy.
The feeling of landing there, in the smoldering Arizona sun was surreal. At first I had trouble understanding the feat I had accomplished, I had escaped prison.
After lighting up a much-needed cigarette I begin to realize this trip is a need. I wanted a want. I needed a want. I got a need. My brothers wedding was the occasion, I needed to be there. Hell, I wanted to be there,but I wanted to be there without the need. For me to understand I needed to act on my desires. I had to push myself to obtain and enjoy the things that I didn’t need. I needed a want.