I sometimes think I’m stuck in the wrong place. Some people think they were stuck in the wrong era (I still think I belonged in the 80’s. In addition, Bret Easton Ellis would have written a book about me. If we were lovers and doing a large amount of coke, while the X plays in the background, of our empty mansion. We own on top of the hills of Hollywood. You know…what lovers would do in the 80’s!). Well I’m stuck in the wrong place. When I say place, I mean the place where I grew up! For years, I’ve been trying to get out of this horrible place. Nevertheless, I’ve always seem to go back to the same place. It’s like a really bad relationship, which I can’t shake off. It’s my security blanket. As I’ve mentioned in previous post, I’m not a big fun of change. However, despite my shortcoming and repose surroundings, I know it’s time for a major change. Comfort be damned…comforts for basics. This flower needs a nice place to bloom.