(no subject)
Sometimes I think this is great for me, and others... I think not.
Alright, I haven't tried this 'writing thing'/'make everything internal external' in a really, really long time.
There's just so much going on that I have a hard time doing it! Couldn't even write in my physical journal.
So. Here goes.
Pros of living in NY-
* Tanya. Enough said. (though I'll elaborate, because it makes me feel better)
- I'm always happy to see her. Even if she does everything ass-backwards and makes me irritated, I still love being with her, and seeing her walk in the door.
-She makes me feel like, Oh- Life Is Possible! Because I've been feeling otherwise, for a very, very long time. I've been feeling as though... I've fucked up soooo badly, that there's no way of ever coming back.
- I strive to be better for her. A better friend, a better thinker... everything. A motivator, because obviously I cannot go without one in my life.
* Scenery. Its FUCKING gorgeous here. I love the trees, the grass, the bitingly cold wind. I love how even in the city, you can walk and find a solitary place. Somewhere. It can be found.
* I'm out of my old house, with the parents. They brought me down. Anyone who knows me, knows this. It really killed me inside... watching them. Eternal Teenagers. in the bad way.
* I feel more alive.
Cons.
* I hate the transportation. I never know what I'm fucking doing... and I'm always afraid of getting lost, or missing my stop.
* I hate where we live. I feel like I'm trapped in the house with Matt and Tanya are at school, because I don't have any house keys. The alarm downstairs goes off every afternoon, and doesn't get turned off until the land lady gets home from work around 5. I hate the flights of stairs. Makes laundry impossible. AND there's no washer/dryer. Gotta walk around the block. SUCKS. No privacy. No food (we ate it all in the first week we bought it).
* I miss Joey. and Alyssa.
* I often think of what/whom I left behind. . . and what could have been. If only he invited me... but alas, I was too chicken-shit to ask. Now I fear that I will never find love at first sight ever again.
Oh, 'Rony. I think about you every day.
* I'm afraid of the first snow..... I'm going to die, but slip and fall many times first.
* It smells. I hate big cities, and I hate the thousands of people.
ugh. Fuck it. I'm done with that. I don't even like thinking about it all.
I want to quit smoking. Just so I can breathe better. I want to join a gym, get a good paying job, and find someone who will love me and sex me up here and again.
I think that deep down, that's what is really getting me. the whole sex thing. He was the last person, but certainly not the first. And I've not had anyone since. Why? I don't know. But its killing me.
I don't feel happy all the time anymore. (Obviously) It only comes in waves... and then I'm just frustrated/irritated/angry/ or sad again. Maybe all I really need is a good dickin'... hmm? haha.
I told myself three or four months. Well, next week will be One Month Down. Two-three more To Go. Then... then. ... Then I'll move on again. Begin my life as a nomad. A lonely nomad. Sounds like a title to a poem. maybe I should write it.
Alright, I haven't tried this 'writing thing'/'make everything internal external' in a really, really long time.
There's just so much going on that I have a hard time doing it! Couldn't even write in my physical journal.
So. Here goes.
Pros of living in NY-
* Tanya. Enough said. (though I'll elaborate, because it makes me feel better)
- I'm always happy to see her. Even if she does everything ass-backwards and makes me irritated, I still love being with her, and seeing her walk in the door.
-She makes me feel like, Oh- Life Is Possible! Because I've been feeling otherwise, for a very, very long time. I've been feeling as though... I've fucked up soooo badly, that there's no way of ever coming back.
- I strive to be better for her. A better friend, a better thinker... everything. A motivator, because obviously I cannot go without one in my life.
* Scenery. Its FUCKING gorgeous here. I love the trees, the grass, the bitingly cold wind. I love how even in the city, you can walk and find a solitary place. Somewhere. It can be found.
* I'm out of my old house, with the parents. They brought me down. Anyone who knows me, knows this. It really killed me inside... watching them. Eternal Teenagers. in the bad way.
* I feel more alive.
Cons.
* I hate the transportation. I never know what I'm fucking doing... and I'm always afraid of getting lost, or missing my stop.
* I hate where we live. I feel like I'm trapped in the house with Matt and Tanya are at school, because I don't have any house keys. The alarm downstairs goes off every afternoon, and doesn't get turned off until the land lady gets home from work around 5. I hate the flights of stairs. Makes laundry impossible. AND there's no washer/dryer. Gotta walk around the block. SUCKS. No privacy. No food (we ate it all in the first week we bought it).
* I miss Joey. and Alyssa.
* I often think of what/whom I left behind. . . and what could have been. If only he invited me... but alas, I was too chicken-shit to ask. Now I fear that I will never find love at first sight ever again.
Oh, 'Rony. I think about you every day.
* I'm afraid of the first snow..... I'm going to die, but slip and fall many times first.
* It smells. I hate big cities, and I hate the thousands of people.
ugh. Fuck it. I'm done with that. I don't even like thinking about it all.
I want to quit smoking. Just so I can breathe better. I want to join a gym, get a good paying job, and find someone who will love me and sex me up here and again.
I think that deep down, that's what is really getting me. the whole sex thing. He was the last person, but certainly not the first. And I've not had anyone since. Why? I don't know. But its killing me.
I don't feel happy all the time anymore. (Obviously) It only comes in waves... and then I'm just frustrated/irritated/angry/ or sad again. Maybe all I really need is a good dickin'... hmm? haha.
I told myself three or four months. Well, next week will be One Month Down. Two-three more To Go. Then... then. ... Then I'll move on again. Begin my life as a nomad. A lonely nomad. Sounds like a title to a poem. maybe I should write it.