my weekend. by me.
anxiety keeping me awake as the first stings of sobriety prepare me for the workweek. a short workweek. one that allows for a sleepless night. (note name)
i had a nice weekend. i almost forgot all about what was bothering me. i went to my favorite place in this half of the state by myself and sat there and drank coffee and watched people that remind me of where i came from. both sooner and later. i walked around and looked at things and people filtered through music that lends itself to fantasies of unrealized grandeur.
i saw lots of couples, young and old. i wondered what made the old ones stay together. i wondered if i could predict how long the young ones would last.
then i broke my quarantine and went to a birthday party. you know those choices you get that you know will change your life? not the ones of school, work, location. but little ones. you know if you say yes you'll never be the same. for better or worse. i talked about one of those choices. i even played the role. like a sample. a teeny peek into what it might be like if i said yes. i've never been able to make this choice. and i probably won't have to. because of the other ones; school, work, location.
then there was food, with a waiter bent on teaching me the laws of demography. and after, i feared for my health and fell asleep. and now i'm awake. and thinking about all the thoughts that all the events made me think.
i don't think foreignness ever goes away. not yours or the place's. i thought it did. but i'm starting to think not. maybe with a huge effort, a constant never-ceasing effort. but then, you could never forget it, through this effort, so it wouldn't go away anyway. so, i dont' think it ever goes away. which is only bad at first. when its most obvious and most uncomfortable. but then it becomes a state in itself. not just a state of mind, or being, or thinking, but a geo-political entity. a state. somewhere you live. somewhere you vote, if that happens to be the case. which army you join, if you so choose, or are forced to. which news you listen to, if you should be so lucky. and thats where you live. not a native, not a foreigner. just some strange assimulatory half breed. eroticized by natives. iconoclized by new comers. link to two worlds. fluent in neither.
and what i was thinking about that was the quest to acculturate. the anchors that stop you. your family, your food, your face. and the things that you grab onto to pull you through it. your friends, your lovers, new food, new hair, new music. only to forget or hide the fact? or out of affection? this may all not make any sense at all. and i have a feeling that tomorrow it won't, but for the time being, all i was thinking was that some people i dated in high school i wore as a badge of my americanness.
i had a nice weekend. i almost forgot all about what was bothering me. i went to my favorite place in this half of the state by myself and sat there and drank coffee and watched people that remind me of where i came from. both sooner and later. i walked around and looked at things and people filtered through music that lends itself to fantasies of unrealized grandeur.
i saw lots of couples, young and old. i wondered what made the old ones stay together. i wondered if i could predict how long the young ones would last.
then i broke my quarantine and went to a birthday party. you know those choices you get that you know will change your life? not the ones of school, work, location. but little ones. you know if you say yes you'll never be the same. for better or worse. i talked about one of those choices. i even played the role. like a sample. a teeny peek into what it might be like if i said yes. i've never been able to make this choice. and i probably won't have to. because of the other ones; school, work, location.
then there was food, with a waiter bent on teaching me the laws of demography. and after, i feared for my health and fell asleep. and now i'm awake. and thinking about all the thoughts that all the events made me think.
i don't think foreignness ever goes away. not yours or the place's. i thought it did. but i'm starting to think not. maybe with a huge effort, a constant never-ceasing effort. but then, you could never forget it, through this effort, so it wouldn't go away anyway. so, i dont' think it ever goes away. which is only bad at first. when its most obvious and most uncomfortable. but then it becomes a state in itself. not just a state of mind, or being, or thinking, but a geo-political entity. a state. somewhere you live. somewhere you vote, if that happens to be the case. which army you join, if you so choose, or are forced to. which news you listen to, if you should be so lucky. and thats where you live. not a native, not a foreigner. just some strange assimulatory half breed. eroticized by natives. iconoclized by new comers. link to two worlds. fluent in neither.
and what i was thinking about that was the quest to acculturate. the anchors that stop you. your family, your food, your face. and the things that you grab onto to pull you through it. your friends, your lovers, new food, new hair, new music. only to forget or hide the fact? or out of affection? this may all not make any sense at all. and i have a feeling that tomorrow it won't, but for the time being, all i was thinking was that some people i dated in high school i wore as a badge of my americanness.