'cause every place I go, I take another place with me

I like to sit down and let my thoughts wander. They have some comfortable puffs at work that I like to let my body sink into as  I wait for a class to start or for a student to show up. As my thoughts go from little details of my class to deeper questions, I often find myself in different places. Yesterday it was a bus station in Europe, some smell reminded me of those smoky, foggy bus stations in Budapest. There are some streets  around Maringá, that if I close my eyes, I  feel like I'm in tree lined streets in Chicago. I always feel like I'm living a reocurring dejá-vu. It seems like time doesn't pass,  and everything is standing still.
As I let the coffee I drank seep through my body and warm me up, I think of last year. My birthday is coming up soon and it's been a year. A whole year. I  mean, I don't count years by my birthday but this year it seems like the starting point of everything. Last year I was thinking how much I wanted to be a twenty something, so I could own up to all my experiences. I  don't want to grow older, I think I just want to act  my own age. Which varies from a five-year old girl to an ancient lady. I do feel like that at times.
Our desires don't vary too much. Some come to reality and then others, seem to never die. I  think my soul longs to let itself drift, I think it revolts completely to settling down and that has been my aim since I've been back. It doesn't settle, it keeps looking for escapes and is not content to just be. I don't know if that's good or not, some would say I'm restless. I think that's my word.
But restless for...? Restless for what, really?
Aren't we all? Never satisfied; always longing.  Even if we were to be at the places, or be certain things,  we'd be wanting something else. So how do we proceed?
That's why I'm stuck.