My Wanderlust Is Genetic

Never settled. Never felt any permanence. Never thought I was a finished product. I could not get out of my hometown, Lucas, Ohio, fast enough. Not that it was a bad place, it was small and everyone knew everyone. It held limited offerings for someone like me. Curious, creative, aloof, and always looking beyond where I was. In retrospect, I love that I grew up in that one stoplight town, but I don’t regret leaving it.

I left to go to school in Pittsburgh to be a comic book artist. Ever since then, I have looked the next thing, I can’t sit still. In some regards, I am stuck in a wanderlust. I tried to be rooted, but motion is what makes me feel alive. I have to be working toward some end, no stasis. I’ve never not been scheming on some endeavour. The longest I’ve ever been in one job is six years. Then I need to move on.

Since leaving home 18, I have moved nine times and will relocate again. Possibly multiple times. I will live in different states. With that perfect partner beside me, I am excited by that. Sometimes, I wish I could have roots, be satisfied with where I am, but that’s not me. I am all about perpetual motion.

Perhaps it’s the Romani blood in my veins; I can’t say for sure. Generations of migration came before I existed. I can’t settle, and I can’t stop changing. My life is a perpetual migration and evolution. Moving forward from one space to my next incarnation, spiritually, intellectually, geographically, professionally. Never stop moving, keep improving and travel to the horizon with no plans to stop.

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