Near Off Runaways

March 7, 2014 • Latest, Madness • Views: 760

When I was 7 years old I packed my pillowcase with some food, some books, a spare set of clothes and a destination limited to the steps beyond my frontdoor. I didn’t get past the driveway. My parents were good parents and my home was a good home. I had legos and a television. I could stay inside and read a book or my friends and I could Tom Sawyer our way through the hills with scraped knees and turned ankles. There were many choices. And yet I always felt off. The ASB kids, the athletes, the actors, the set builders–I was an alien among them. I didn’t want to join. I wanted to run off. I wasn’t the only one; but it sure felt like it. We’ve all grown up now, me and those fellow aliens. Some of us have joined the race and disguised ourselves with suits and hemmed skirts. Others live on the fringes playing bands and writing stories, surviving off nametag jobs and unreached dreams. But we’re all the same. We all wear the same nametag underneath. We who don’t quite fit in; whose comfort is a locked bedroom door or a sleeping bag under the sky. You’ll need special glasses to spot us. The unsure, the cautious, the almost there’s. And so this site is for them: for the friends who wear masks, for the friends at the edge, for all  the near off runaways.

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© 2014 Christopher Dart

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