next exit...nowhere
Well, I'm back in Binghamton, for good...at least until I find out about this whole UB buisness.
So, in the Binghamton tradition of being here for the summer, we've started frequenting sketchy bars and house parties. It always makes me feel like I'm in high school again. There's a reassurance in that, a feeling that you very much belong in your life because it's the same life that you've been living since 15. However, after England, after everything this year, that whole feeling of comfort has been reduced to a weird, unsettling vibe. I mean, what am I doing sitting in a basement drinking beer with friends from high school that never made it out of Binghamton? I've seen the world, I've gone and DONE something...and they're too busy crushing pills and snorting them up their noses. I didn't even know that real people DID that..I must have been awfully naive. I also don't particularly enjoy how some of the guys from high school percieve me. I caught a ton of flack last night for the fact that I dyed my hair and pierced my nose. They haven't changed, so I'm not allowed to either, I guess. It's really frustrating to meet that sort of opposition, because I've taken so much pride in the changes I've made...the last thing I want is someone telling me that I shouldn't have changed a thing, including the superficial.
However, it was good in a way to see these people. Mikey told me I was in his top three of coolest girls he's ever met. Regardless of the source, that's a sweet compliment, and I take it to heart. I feel for these boys so much--they had so much potential, still do, but they're letting it fall by the wayside, blocking it out with all kinds of distractors. Going nowhere, and not thinking about it. It breaks my heart because I sometimes notice flashes of lucidity, especially when they talk to me about what I'm doing, and I can read disappointment in their eyes. Of course, it's only a moment.
Either way, I'm not sure if I'm prepared to settle into yet another Binghamton summer. Wasted potential and dead-end lives are weighing heavy on my heart already.
So, in the Binghamton tradition of being here for the summer, we've started frequenting sketchy bars and house parties. It always makes me feel like I'm in high school again. There's a reassurance in that, a feeling that you very much belong in your life because it's the same life that you've been living since 15. However, after England, after everything this year, that whole feeling of comfort has been reduced to a weird, unsettling vibe. I mean, what am I doing sitting in a basement drinking beer with friends from high school that never made it out of Binghamton? I've seen the world, I've gone and DONE something...and they're too busy crushing pills and snorting them up their noses. I didn't even know that real people DID that..I must have been awfully naive. I also don't particularly enjoy how some of the guys from high school percieve me. I caught a ton of flack last night for the fact that I dyed my hair and pierced my nose. They haven't changed, so I'm not allowed to either, I guess. It's really frustrating to meet that sort of opposition, because I've taken so much pride in the changes I've made...the last thing I want is someone telling me that I shouldn't have changed a thing, including the superficial.
However, it was good in a way to see these people. Mikey told me I was in his top three of coolest girls he's ever met. Regardless of the source, that's a sweet compliment, and I take it to heart. I feel for these boys so much--they had so much potential, still do, but they're letting it fall by the wayside, blocking it out with all kinds of distractors. Going nowhere, and not thinking about it. It breaks my heart because I sometimes notice flashes of lucidity, especially when they talk to me about what I'm doing, and I can read disappointment in their eyes. Of course, it's only a moment.
Either way, I'm not sure if I'm prepared to settle into yet another Binghamton summer. Wasted potential and dead-end lives are weighing heavy on my heart already.