Home again.
So, here's my story...typed while defeating that last of this cold/plague/death serum.
With two of my best friends out globetrotting across Asia (and within close proximity of one another, mind you...it makes me wonder if they've run into one another..), and the majority of my other friends having retreated back home, I decided it might be the best of ideas to do so myself. Ridiculously enough, every force that the divinities could summon was keeping me from going home, and I sort of understand why. It started simply with waking up a bit too late...something at which I have become quite the expert, as of late. Yeah, I'm dead tired, and I know exactly why. As opposed to taking some time to myself this past summer...I made cash. Mind you, this seemed like a good idea at the time...and throughout the semester, I was quite happy with it. By semester's end, however, I was a fucking wreck. No other way to explain it. The days began to blur together with odd efficiency. I ditched my usual nighthawk habits for occasional early bedtimes, and absurdly late bedtimes at other junctures. Mind you, the semester paid off (hosting a radio show, 3.6 GPA, etc...), but by the time I wanted to drag myself home, it took forever.
In time, I shoved the important shite into boxes and suitcases, and made the drive back to Chicago. Ahh, that first inhale of polluted air..the first traffic frustrations..the denizens with their "me first" attitude. It's good to be home, but complete with it's drawbacks. Of course, it's difficult to settle into the rut of being someone's son again, and living under your parent's roof. What makes it more difficult is when several of your cousins, being slightly older, have now made their transitions into independent life, and wear their badges of paving their own way with a sense of pride...much of the same sense that I have when I'm at college. Don't get me wrong...the parents are kind, giving, funny, and willing to pay for shite. But, on the other hand, I'm a different kid, now..and in the end, I can look into their eyes, and straight to the matter that they don't quite know how to handle the adult me yet.
I wa that type of kid that thought of his parents as plain-clothes prophets...but now that I've grown, and sought knowledge outside of their influence, I find that there are a lot more of these type of people in this rotting world. The world is indeed a sad place, but my solace comes in good people making their daily attempts to change the world from their personal square of concrete. Given this, my parents have sort of settled...my mom is finally on the verge of retirement (2 years and counting), and they're planning to move out west with friends. At times, it feels like I'm moving too fast to keep up with them, only stopping to see them when I have a spare moment to breath, and enjoy where I am currently. Otherwise, life is this off-kilter blur that makes everything seems as though it can be savored for its moments, until the next goal comes up, but a few seconds later.
Home seems to put all of this in perspective, and yet knock other things out of perspective. I'm someone's son again...but I'm still my own person. A doppleganger's existence of being in two places at once, and different things to different people. All else saved, I am in someplace where if I feel conflicted as to whom I am at a moment in time, I can take the moments necessary to stop, and remember whom I was, and what I still am to others.
I suppose what I'm saying is, that in the end, despite the qualms I have...being here ain't so bad.
Christmas was fruitful...a lot of what was necessary, and a lot of what was needed. I am now the proud owner of several non-Cosby sweaters, which several of my female friends think make me look "dashing." We'll test those theories when I return to campus...many a potential date awaits, and thus chances for me to look like a responsible musician, for once. Speaking of music...if you read this journal, stay tuned for album release dates. That's right...it's done, finally. I just hope it turns out like I expected it to...otherwise, back to the drawing board...
Speaking of which, I should be tackling some art now, shouldn't I? Peace, kids.
With two of my best friends out globetrotting across Asia (and within close proximity of one another, mind you...it makes me wonder if they've run into one another..), and the majority of my other friends having retreated back home, I decided it might be the best of ideas to do so myself. Ridiculously enough, every force that the divinities could summon was keeping me from going home, and I sort of understand why. It started simply with waking up a bit too late...something at which I have become quite the expert, as of late. Yeah, I'm dead tired, and I know exactly why. As opposed to taking some time to myself this past summer...I made cash. Mind you, this seemed like a good idea at the time...and throughout the semester, I was quite happy with it. By semester's end, however, I was a fucking wreck. No other way to explain it. The days began to blur together with odd efficiency. I ditched my usual nighthawk habits for occasional early bedtimes, and absurdly late bedtimes at other junctures. Mind you, the semester paid off (hosting a radio show, 3.6 GPA, etc...), but by the time I wanted to drag myself home, it took forever.
In time, I shoved the important shite into boxes and suitcases, and made the drive back to Chicago. Ahh, that first inhale of polluted air..the first traffic frustrations..the denizens with their "me first" attitude. It's good to be home, but complete with it's drawbacks. Of course, it's difficult to settle into the rut of being someone's son again, and living under your parent's roof. What makes it more difficult is when several of your cousins, being slightly older, have now made their transitions into independent life, and wear their badges of paving their own way with a sense of pride...much of the same sense that I have when I'm at college. Don't get me wrong...the parents are kind, giving, funny, and willing to pay for shite. But, on the other hand, I'm a different kid, now..and in the end, I can look into their eyes, and straight to the matter that they don't quite know how to handle the adult me yet.
I wa that type of kid that thought of his parents as plain-clothes prophets...but now that I've grown, and sought knowledge outside of their influence, I find that there are a lot more of these type of people in this rotting world. The world is indeed a sad place, but my solace comes in good people making their daily attempts to change the world from their personal square of concrete. Given this, my parents have sort of settled...my mom is finally on the verge of retirement (2 years and counting), and they're planning to move out west with friends. At times, it feels like I'm moving too fast to keep up with them, only stopping to see them when I have a spare moment to breath, and enjoy where I am currently. Otherwise, life is this off-kilter blur that makes everything seems as though it can be savored for its moments, until the next goal comes up, but a few seconds later.
Home seems to put all of this in perspective, and yet knock other things out of perspective. I'm someone's son again...but I'm still my own person. A doppleganger's existence of being in two places at once, and different things to different people. All else saved, I am in someplace where if I feel conflicted as to whom I am at a moment in time, I can take the moments necessary to stop, and remember whom I was, and what I still am to others.
I suppose what I'm saying is, that in the end, despite the qualms I have...being here ain't so bad.
Christmas was fruitful...a lot of what was necessary, and a lot of what was needed. I am now the proud owner of several non-Cosby sweaters, which several of my female friends think make me look "dashing." We'll test those theories when I return to campus...many a potential date awaits, and thus chances for me to look like a responsible musician, for once. Speaking of music...if you read this journal, stay tuned for album release dates. That's right...it's done, finally. I just hope it turns out like I expected it to...otherwise, back to the drawing board...
Speaking of which, I should be tackling some art now, shouldn't I? Peace, kids.