Time
For an update.
I've been living in New York for... two months and two weeks. I have to say that I'm still loving it exactly as much as I was when I first saw Butler Library. I have a great view from my room, which is very important to me. I have a great roommate, which I had no idea would be as important to me as it is.
Classes are good; very interesting, and intellectually rewarding, though I'm frequently overloaded and unable to function at my highest capacity.
The weird thing I've found is... no one. I don't know anyone here. I mean, I know people, but there's no one here who's the same species that I am. There are a couple of people who mock my species and a few who excel in it far beyond any level that makes me comfortable. I find myself wishing to be friends with punk rock girl children who hang out before the show smoking cigarettes and trying very hard to look cute, just in case anyone's looking. I find myself wishing to be around the kids in high school who joked incessantly about death and dying. I find myself wishing I were around the community college rejects, the acid-laced skate park losers, the O.C. dealers and the skanky-looking recording engineers that I knew back home.
Not even to say that those people have the least thing in common with me. They are just that body of people from whence I come. This is a world where I have to stand alone in my own identity; no one can take me in the context of my foundations and my society at home. There is no society. The only thing here is hard work and pure intellectual pleasure. To which I am not averse in the least. There is no highway. There is no valley. Only gridded streets, full of a thousand lives.
I've been living in New York for... two months and two weeks. I have to say that I'm still loving it exactly as much as I was when I first saw Butler Library. I have a great view from my room, which is very important to me. I have a great roommate, which I had no idea would be as important to me as it is.
Classes are good; very interesting, and intellectually rewarding, though I'm frequently overloaded and unable to function at my highest capacity.
The weird thing I've found is... no one. I don't know anyone here. I mean, I know people, but there's no one here who's the same species that I am. There are a couple of people who mock my species and a few who excel in it far beyond any level that makes me comfortable. I find myself wishing to be friends with punk rock girl children who hang out before the show smoking cigarettes and trying very hard to look cute, just in case anyone's looking. I find myself wishing to be around the kids in high school who joked incessantly about death and dying. I find myself wishing I were around the community college rejects, the acid-laced skate park losers, the O.C. dealers and the skanky-looking recording engineers that I knew back home.
Not even to say that those people have the least thing in common with me. They are just that body of people from whence I come. This is a world where I have to stand alone in my own identity; no one can take me in the context of my foundations and my society at home. There is no society. The only thing here is hard work and pure intellectual pleasure. To which I am not averse in the least. There is no highway. There is no valley. Only gridded streets, full of a thousand lives.