I am looking for a fresh start.
I wonder why it is that people idealize and romanticize the idea of starting anew – tabula rasa; clean slate. They’re still the same person, they will continue making the same mistakes, no matter where or how far they run.
One can flee to another city halfway across the world; lost amid the gray, gray canvas of nameless faces going nowhere. But the first night he rests, he remembers that the sky is still the same, and the clouds floating by are the same ones as the night before, and the night before, and the night before that.
Nothing really changes. The only thing that changes is that when you awake in your new life, you add another notch to your bedpost, and run again. Except, you tell yourself, this time will be different.
It never is.