It Means Nothing

I wanna come back home. More than anybody knows.
I mean, the reason I came back early this summer was because I wanted to spend time with friends. I pictured coming back and being busy every single day like I used to be. Never stopping. Always on the go.

Fuck, that's not even how it is.

This summer has been the slowest summer I've ever had.
And I hate admitting that, because knowing that I COULD be in Idaho right now, but I'm not, makes me sick. I always think about it at night, which is one of the reasons I don't sleep anymore.

Everybody works,
Everybody is busy,
I can never get a ride into town,
Nobody wants to come pick me up,
When I do get a ride it's too late to hang out.

And when the plans do work out, I'm too lazy, or I flake out, or I slept away the day because I was up all night the night before. This isn't how summer should be. It has never been like this for me. I've had some good times this summer, but not enough. It's time I get off my ass, stop complaining, stop thinking about how I could of stayed longer, and go out and enjoy my time.

I'm driving myself crazy.