Habit's the only place you call home
Being here in Seattle finishing things I'm not sure I want to finish, I feel glad. New York was a lot of happy for me last year, but the drain and the depression surrounding the city now is almost too much. There's the fact that I have the work trajectory of an immigrant...several jobs, all of which are not lucrative enough. I constantly remind myself that, at 23, this is normal. Fun, even. But it isn't fun, really, especially when you count yourself lucky to hang on to those shreds of jobs, even if they mean that you feel slightly promiscuous when you're running all over new york...and not even in your glamorous shoes.
I watch these things now, and like a good disillusioned white person, I feel alienated from all those things I wanted. It's easy to go somewhere and think that you, too, are smarter than everyone else when all is good with the world.
But I'm not. And that's fine. So back to Seattle:
It's very pretty here, and people use cars, and I have family...aaaaand the rent is cheaper than in New York. I feel light on my toes and almost eager to move, and then to keep moving as much as I can. New York, with the exception of friends and Brooklyn, feels sad. It's hard to enter a place with a lot of hope and then exit with nothing in the savings, a few people that hate you (hate!) and a loss of all that you thought you wanted for several years.
At the same time, it's invigorating. I keep coming back to the Odyssey (how trite for a Classics major), and the idea of home. It's a good thing to feel dexterous in all situations, all places. At 23, everything that seems depressing is also kind of exotic, kind of precious.
I feel like leaving again...but I suppose all of this depends.
I swear to god if domino's doesn't stop doing those fucking pop-up adds during my musics I will kill!
Brought to you by:
A Giant Glass of White Wine
I watch these things now, and like a good disillusioned white person, I feel alienated from all those things I wanted. It's easy to go somewhere and think that you, too, are smarter than everyone else when all is good with the world.
But I'm not. And that's fine. So back to Seattle:
It's very pretty here, and people use cars, and I have family...aaaaand the rent is cheaper than in New York. I feel light on my toes and almost eager to move, and then to keep moving as much as I can. New York, with the exception of friends and Brooklyn, feels sad. It's hard to enter a place with a lot of hope and then exit with nothing in the savings, a few people that hate you (hate!) and a loss of all that you thought you wanted for several years.
At the same time, it's invigorating. I keep coming back to the Odyssey (how trite for a Classics major), and the idea of home. It's a good thing to feel dexterous in all situations, all places. At 23, everything that seems depressing is also kind of exotic, kind of precious.
I feel like leaving again...but I suppose all of this depends.
I swear to god if domino's doesn't stop doing those fucking pop-up adds during my musics I will kill!
Brought to you by:
A Giant Glass of White Wine