(no subject)
I think I've outgrown a lot of things that I used to identify with - I don't know how the past two years have changed me, apart from how they clearly have made some pretty substantial alterations to both my temperament and my life from here on out. I find myself quieter and less sure, and to some degree, less in my head. The incessant barrage of enthused babbling, loving everything living out loud, has dwindled into something far less manic. Constant wonderment and excitement may be more suited to younger, more wide-eyed youth, or perhaps those with lives less defined with less shape in the years mapped out before them.
And yet I can't shake the feeling that as much as things have been carved out for me, within definite, if broad, limits, there is so much that shifts and slides even more than before; if anything my life is more wide open than it had been at six or seventeen, or twenty-two, for that matter, about to dive into a city I had never been to that I had loved for so long based on the nothing I knew about it but the absurd certainty that that would be where my life would begin.
I can't believe how far that got me, or the degree to which that became a fair estimation of what would follow, and more than that, how much it's been what I've always wanted, albeit in a strange, surprising version of this that I'm still not quite sure what to do with. I leave New York in two weeks; I can't say I'm not leaving anything behind but I can say I'm taking everything that's important with me, I don't know how I came to be so lucky.
And yet I can't shake the feeling that as much as things have been carved out for me, within definite, if broad, limits, there is so much that shifts and slides even more than before; if anything my life is more wide open than it had been at six or seventeen, or twenty-two, for that matter, about to dive into a city I had never been to that I had loved for so long based on the nothing I knew about it but the absurd certainty that that would be where my life would begin.
I can't believe how far that got me, or the degree to which that became a fair estimation of what would follow, and more than that, how much it's been what I've always wanted, albeit in a strange, surprising version of this that I'm still not quite sure what to do with. I leave New York in two weeks; I can't say I'm not leaving anything behind but I can say I'm taking everything that's important with me, I don't know how I came to be so lucky.