Checked In, Not Checked Out
People travel to escape — to get away, to see things they haven’t seen…
Or rather, to chase what they want to see.
But what about those of us who’ve already seen too much?
Too much joy.
Too much grief.
Too much real.
Things we can’t unsee. Feelings that don’t just fade — they echo.
We’ve been elated. And we’ve been downright deflated.
So what is this trip to us? Solace?
Or just delaying the inevitable?
The flight home.
The crash landing back into the chaos, the numbness, the empty —
And yeah, maybe even the safety of the devil you know
Breakfast Of Champions? Or Fuel For A Warrior Fighting An Endless Battle?
This morning I sat in Hotel Football, plate in front of me, the sky bright but dull — overcast, like it couldn’t decide what kind of day it wanted to be.
The city was starting to move, but I wasn’t watching it.
I was watching me — the version of me that made it here.
The food was warm. The coffee did its job.
But this wasn’t just breakfast.
This was fuel.
Fuel for a man trying to piece himself back together — one rep, one thought, one promise at a time.
I’m not here to relax.
I’m here to remember who the fuck I am.
They say don’t bring your baggage when you travel.
Nah. I brought mine on purpose.
Not to avoid it.
To own it.
To stop dragging it behind me and start learning how to carry it without it breaking me.
Home Is Where The Demons Wait!
My checkout’s at 2.
The flight’s at 8.
But my mind? It’s already halfway home.
Back to the dishes in the sink.
The clothes still in the machine from days ago.
The rooms I keep saying I’ll sort.
The silence I pretend doesn’t get to me.
And weirdly… I’m not dreading it.
Because I’m not flying back as the same man who left.
I’m not coming home to escape anymore.
I’m coming home with purpose.
I’ve got baggage, sure — but now I’ve also got a handle on it.
And maybe that’s what makes the difference this time.
A Closing Thought, To Open Up To.
Maybe that’s what this whole journey is.
Not escape. Not sightseeing. Not distraction.
But a checkpoint.
A moment to ask myself:
Am I checked in to the life I’m building… or still trying to check out of the one I’ve survived?
