everything i own. i promise, self, to gain more possessions once life begins in the city.
end of an era.
the mother of all catalysts has adopted me.
i feel as though i’m moving at warp speed to pack up (which has already been completed…sans some glassware) and get the fuck out of wilmington, nc.
the consensus? as dramatic the news of losing ones job may be, being propelled to start the next great leg of an adventure - ill prepared and rather money less (shocker) - is exactly how i want it to go down.
it’s time and i refuse to fight; luck is hopefully my best comrade.
we meet again to move my life.
dear perfect push-up, i dislike you. always, zack.