082412 -- So Long
This will be the first summer in 7 years where I will be SO HAPPY for it to be done.
Goodbye, Coney Island. I'm sorry I didn't make it to you twice during the summer. Maybe I will during Labor Day weekend, if anybody wants to go with me. Maybe it won't suck. Maybe I won't throw up at Sheepshead Bay and stake out sanctuary in Dunkin' Donuts. Maybe I won't get lots of bad memories and hate myself the entire time I'm there.
Actually, let's make that a hopefully. I really like you, Coney Island. Let's not screw this up.
See you soon, Empire State Building. I wish to not hate you for the same reasons. Actually, considering the outcome of it all, I can look up at you and smile.
A bittersweet goodbye for now, Cedar Point. It's okay. I still love you. I wish I could wrap you up and give you a great big hug. You've given me so much over the years, but more than anything, you've given me two things that have stood the test of time: an identity and a missing piece. I still have both of those, and I want to thank you for that.
(And to my missing piece: who would have thought it would be you? But I digress. I ask that question about you way too often.)
Ja ne, WaHi. You're like that old friend I'll never see again, good memories, lots of late nights, sleeping over, feeling like home. But you're not home. I look out my window and wonder if I'll ever take the M96 bus again, if I'll ever arrive at that door, if I'll ever fully understand. The future is an uncertain place. Maybe someday it'll all be okay. But it's all okay now.
I will soon bid a farewell to Normandie. I really do like you. You're just too expensive for the lifestyle I want to live now.
Goodbye, the me who used to not care. Goodbye, sitting under my blanket. Goodbye, not wanting to eat food because I'm afraid I'll throw it back up. I'm trying to throw you away the best that I can. It doesn't always work, but I have a feeling it will get better.
So long to the summer that sucked.
Hello, Grand Central Terminal.
Today, I pick up Ringo and pack everything up. I shoulder my bag and get ready to go to Argo. I don't have any food in my house save for ramen noodles, but I'm kind of okay with that. When I get to Argo, maybe I'll finally sit down and figure out what I want to do with my life.
But to start with, I will go to 96th and Park and watch the trains run in and out of my city, to places I can't even begin to understand.
Goodbye, Coney Island. I'm sorry I didn't make it to you twice during the summer. Maybe I will during Labor Day weekend, if anybody wants to go with me. Maybe it won't suck. Maybe I won't throw up at Sheepshead Bay and stake out sanctuary in Dunkin' Donuts. Maybe I won't get lots of bad memories and hate myself the entire time I'm there.
Actually, let's make that a hopefully. I really like you, Coney Island. Let's not screw this up.
See you soon, Empire State Building. I wish to not hate you for the same reasons. Actually, considering the outcome of it all, I can look up at you and smile.
A bittersweet goodbye for now, Cedar Point. It's okay. I still love you. I wish I could wrap you up and give you a great big hug. You've given me so much over the years, but more than anything, you've given me two things that have stood the test of time: an identity and a missing piece. I still have both of those, and I want to thank you for that.
(And to my missing piece: who would have thought it would be you? But I digress. I ask that question about you way too often.)
Ja ne, WaHi. You're like that old friend I'll never see again, good memories, lots of late nights, sleeping over, feeling like home. But you're not home. I look out my window and wonder if I'll ever take the M96 bus again, if I'll ever arrive at that door, if I'll ever fully understand. The future is an uncertain place. Maybe someday it'll all be okay. But it's all okay now.
I will soon bid a farewell to Normandie. I really do like you. You're just too expensive for the lifestyle I want to live now.
Goodbye, the me who used to not care. Goodbye, sitting under my blanket. Goodbye, not wanting to eat food because I'm afraid I'll throw it back up. I'm trying to throw you away the best that I can. It doesn't always work, but I have a feeling it will get better.
So long to the summer that sucked.
Hello, Grand Central Terminal.
Today, I pick up Ringo and pack everything up. I shoulder my bag and get ready to go to Argo. I don't have any food in my house save for ramen noodles, but I'm kind of okay with that. When I get to Argo, maybe I'll finally sit down and figure out what I want to do with my life.
But to start with, I will go to 96th and Park and watch the trains run in and out of my city, to places I can't even begin to understand.