Itch

It's that time.
It's happening, it's coming, daunting, looming, growing nearer, edging towards us, creeping through the shadows and leaping out when you least want or expect it to. It grabs you by the throat and twists you until you forget how it all started. It lodges itself inside your mind, swirling, vortexing, making it all happen, making it all start.
Then it happens.
Your feet.. they want to move. All . The . Time.
Your hands, they want to twiddle.
You, You, You want to move. Somewhere, anywhere.

It's the itch.

And I've got it bad.

No... it's not some kind of STI you dirty minded creep, or a disease, its the itch for something different. I know my entire life turned upside down, oh only 3 months ago, but yet, I want more. Nothing ever seems good enough, a worthy enough change.

I wanna be somewhere else. Busier, more hustle and bustle. More knocking on the elbow and almost getting run over, more everything.

I want busy-body fever, I want it all!!

And guess what, pretty soon, I'm gunna get it. I'm moving again, this time from outskirts of town in to student halls... it's about bloody time! And I can't wait.

I think the itch has started because it knows what's coming, it can sense it, smell it, it's almost close enough to touch, yet still every so slightly unimaginable, making the itch thrive. It wants to know more, it wants details, it wants times, when, where, how will it all happen, why me? Why has my itch been chosen above others, is mine greater? Is mine thirstier?

It means the tunnel is coming to a close, and this chapter of year one is (not so) sadly over. It means I can start almost fresh again, see unfamiliar faces again, voices, feel like I'm in a totally new place, when I'm not.

I'm too restless. If I don't like change, I don't wait, don't watch the minutes tick by, I move forward as fast as possible, morphing the change into the itch, then hopefully a new change thereafter.

I can't wait... (I blame the itch)