sometimes i sit here and worry. worry about the past, worry about the future. mainly i worry about what will come of my friends and me. will we still be close? will i see them often? what happens when i move to chicago or where ever the hell i go? i can’t stay here. i can’t do it. i’ll go no where in my life. i have to leave this town, this place. sometimes i sit here and think about how scary the future actually is. i don’t know what’s going to happen. i can plan and plan and plan. the odds are that it won’t happen that way. will my dreams happen at all? do i have what it takes to do what i want? i honestly don’t know. i have to get out of this place, but it’s scary to think about actually leaving.