While You Wait For The Others

My mind was just about made up through the course of events two evenings ago. Here's how it unraveled:
Band practice was mediocre. It's always fun rocking out, I guess, but Jimi's reluctance to stray from the over-done guidelines of "punk rock" is restricting and kind of irritating. Driving is also irritating, which was a requirement to make sure Liam and Jimi could make it. They also necessitated rides home. Whatever, that's what I signed up for.
I wasn't able to accomplish one thing on my list that night, which was to get a slice or two of vegan pizza from Ian's. I decided it was more important to hurry home and eat my leftover pasta before Woj and Matsuo arrived. So that's what I did. And I couldn't decide whether or not I'd let myself smoke any cigarettes that night because sometimes my spine is weak.
The Kevins arrived, then Sam and Trevor came over, and we all drank and smoked cigarettes and we went to the Oasis for some reason. And the whole night had an undertone of being mediocre. And it also had an I've-done-this-before feel to it, which is okay when there's variation, but variation was another thing missing. I've read books before, but the one I finished last night was unlike most of the other books I've ever read and it was very entertaining.
Waking up with a padlock on my lungs is a bad way to re-enter waking life. So my mind was made: I'm running away. I'm running away to close the book on nights I've already lived and don't need re-examining. I'm running away from the pressure to smoke when all my friends are smoking that sometimes I can deal with but sometimes I can't.
More importantly is where I'm running to. I'm running to a place with a lower crime rate and more sunny days; a place where the only person I know is my sister, and she doesn't mind my back-and-forth mindsets. I'm looking forward to driving out of the city to sit on a mountain and hear nothing. I want to sit in Tattered Cover for hours on end and know that no one will recognize me. I want to write and listen to music and not feel that anybody's peaking over my shoulder. I want to allow my convictions to manifest themselves in my daily life instead of coming and going with the availabilities of my friends.
Maybe I'll go out there and nothing will change, except that I'll suddenly be very, very lonely.
I wonder who I'll miss. My family, probably, but I probably won't miss drinking or self-loathing. I won't miss bowling, but I'll miss bowling with John. I'll miss having the option to go out late with people I know, though I don't really take advantage of that now.

Huh. So something's that's come to light in the past few days is this: lots of things that I assumed should go without saying clearly do not.