Enid: You know what my number one fantasy used to be?
Enid: I used to think about one day, just not telling anyone, and going off to some random place. And I’d just… disappear. And they’d never see me again. Did you ever think about stuff like that?
Seymour: I guess I probably did when I was your age.
Enid: You know what we should do? We should just get in your car right now, and just drive off. Just find some totally new place and start a whole new life. Fuck everybody.
Escaping may not be the answer to feeling better, but it’ll always be the ultimate dream. It’s the exciting imagining of running away to the unknown. To a place that you may not even know the name of, just a vague conjuring of space that you could sink away into, leaving strained thoughts and problems crumbling into fragments of air that you can breath once again.
I think for the most part people always want to runaway from things. From routine. From themselves. Even if the running away is just in small ways. That’s what change is all about, right?
I’ve spent the most part of the past few years of my life feeling scared shitless about what I’m doing and who I am. Throughout that entire time the thought of disappearing to other countries, where I could become a stranger and stumble into new opportunities in the process has kept me going. I try not to rely too much on these fantasies, though whenever I feel myself slipping away I catch a hold of them once again and clutch them as tight as I can. The knowledge that they’re a possibility can be comfort enough.