Kiss me like a drug, like a respirator
All I can be is strong and lonely and a little content. But just a little. At lesat thats the proscripted outcome; all the elation has ebbed and left a satiny residue of titanium and a few tired smiles. I wish Seattle was a little closer to Atlanta. I remember why I came here though, and I am definetely getting schooled in one way or another. Today I woke up a little later than I planned, and walked to Trader Joe's to get food for the week and carried my insanely heavy food back 15 blocks. I liked it. I made myself coconut curry chicken ravioli. Yeah, I'm good.
So I have several goals, several adjustments, and a few overriding fears. I suppose I'll tackle those pesky fears first:
Firstly, I'm afraid that even though I can be alone- getting better at it daily- I'm absolutely petrified that the loneliness is going to blur and warp and become the ersatz topography of my life; in short, I afraid that while I am dealing with everything and adapting and enjoying being alone, this loneliness is going to wreck me and leave me crowded and dizzy and possibly-permanently- disfigured. My loneliness is going to be the cause of my loneliness, and I'll wake up some tomorrow a week or a month or two years from now and be sad and strong and be an old man waiting for death at the tender age of 24. Yeah, nuts, right? Except a niggling angry little voice says that everyday it becomes incrementally harder to make a new friend of sustain a real connection to someone without being creepy or desperate or too too hungry.
Secondly, I'm afraid that I'm going to become entrenched into that old work-sleep-miscellaneous-work-sleep cycle again. I virtually vomit and the idea I'm going to spend the bulk value of my present life wasting my time to make somebody else a buck, and then waste my time for want of imagination or bravery or failed intuition. Something like that.
Thirdly- and this is much more concrete- I am so afraid of getting sick. Between this goddamn bird flu and my own haphazard immune system I fear falling ill and then dying. I'm not kidding. If you are REALLY sick and you have no health insurance- as I do not for another 3 months- you can very easily die if there is no one to take care of you.
And my last persistent fear is the fear that the world is over; that time is just doing a cool-down lap now. That even if I invite total immolation that what it comes down to is the death of birth and the death of history. I seriously worry about this shit.
Other than these and the other "orange clouds", I'm doing ok. I wish things were moving along more gracefully on the companionship front, because I am like the coolest person ever, and I wish things were moving a little slower on the job front. I have way to much responsibility for tomorrow being my fourth freakin day.
I'm going to take up kayaking. And I'm going to read three books from the library every week. I will write one page of prose or one poem and talk to at least three people I don't know per day. I will infiltrate all the cool clubs at UDub under the guise of a current student, and I will savor the bitter and dirty crumbs of life.
I wanted to be alone. I wanted to be loved. And now I am 2700 miles away. And I'm trying.
So I win, I guess.
So I have several goals, several adjustments, and a few overriding fears. I suppose I'll tackle those pesky fears first:
Firstly, I'm afraid that even though I can be alone- getting better at it daily- I'm absolutely petrified that the loneliness is going to blur and warp and become the ersatz topography of my life; in short, I afraid that while I am dealing with everything and adapting and enjoying being alone, this loneliness is going to wreck me and leave me crowded and dizzy and possibly-permanently- disfigured. My loneliness is going to be the cause of my loneliness, and I'll wake up some tomorrow a week or a month or two years from now and be sad and strong and be an old man waiting for death at the tender age of 24. Yeah, nuts, right? Except a niggling angry little voice says that everyday it becomes incrementally harder to make a new friend of sustain a real connection to someone without being creepy or desperate or too too hungry.
Secondly, I'm afraid that I'm going to become entrenched into that old work-sleep-miscellaneous-work-sleep cycle again. I virtually vomit and the idea I'm going to spend the bulk value of my present life wasting my time to make somebody else a buck, and then waste my time for want of imagination or bravery or failed intuition. Something like that.
Thirdly- and this is much more concrete- I am so afraid of getting sick. Between this goddamn bird flu and my own haphazard immune system I fear falling ill and then dying. I'm not kidding. If you are REALLY sick and you have no health insurance- as I do not for another 3 months- you can very easily die if there is no one to take care of you.
And my last persistent fear is the fear that the world is over; that time is just doing a cool-down lap now. That even if I invite total immolation that what it comes down to is the death of birth and the death of history. I seriously worry about this shit.
Other than these and the other "orange clouds", I'm doing ok. I wish things were moving along more gracefully on the companionship front, because I am like the coolest person ever, and I wish things were moving a little slower on the job front. I have way to much responsibility for tomorrow being my fourth freakin day.
I'm going to take up kayaking. And I'm going to read three books from the library every week. I will write one page of prose or one poem and talk to at least three people I don't know per day. I will infiltrate all the cool clubs at UDub under the guise of a current student, and I will savor the bitter and dirty crumbs of life.
I wanted to be alone. I wanted to be loved. And now I am 2700 miles away. And I'm trying.
So I win, I guess.