I wanna talk about how fuckin ballsy and awesome this is.
And I wanna talk about how this society, this global society, forgets VERY quickly when someone we like does something terrible.
Hm. Nope. Stop. That’s enough.
what fresh Hell hath we unconvered
There’s something surprisingly lonely about a city of eight or so million people, all living, breathing, and in some instances coughing right in your face throughout your entire existence here.
The train was stalled in the tunnel, because that’s apparently how the F train operates, and I was jarred back into reality, away from the sounds of Dan Campbell and his friends from Philadelphia. I looked around the car and a thought shot its way into my head.
I wonder if they feel how I feel.
I wonder if, in this city, in this train even, if someone feels exactly how I feel.
Not lonely, per se. But uneasy, disconnected, anxious even. As though everything wasn’t going the way I had planned even though I hadn’t planned anything at all.
I wonder if this city will ever feel like home, I wonder if any city ever will. I didn’t feel at home in Colorado, I felt like bigger things were calling me and the more I sat in that state, the more I wasn’t living but just surviving in comfort and you can’t do that, you’re just killing yourself in tiny, tiny steps. Sometimes you have to take risks.
But, in New York, I feel like I’m staying in a hotel.
I guess I’m just expecting a check out day, even though I don’t know if I want one.
I love this city. I mean, I hate this city in so many ways, I think it can be the worst thing on Earth and I’m constantly angry at people who exist in it, but I love this city in so many ways too. I love that it’s busy, but still I can find myself a park that has no one in it, I love that weird things happen every day and nobody pays attention. I love that the personality changes from block to block, I love that every day I see dozens of people who are perfectly content being themselves and nothing else.
The train starts moving again but I’m still thinking about home even though I have lost sight of where that is. A man gets on at East Broadway and starts to make a speech about needing money. I look at the ground to avoid eye contact, Campbell laments about his break up with Jess.
I read somewhere that it’s not the location you’re in, but the people you are with that makes you feel at home. I guess there’s some truth to that, some people just feel like home. But I don’t know if that has anything to do with it. I just always feel like I am on stops in my life, hotel check ins on a vacation to my death.
I look at pictures of Chicago, of Austin, of Portland, of Seattle, of Philadelphia, of Vancouver, of Boston. I think about the summers there, the winters, the people, the traffic, the festivals, the parks, the concerts.
The train stops at 14th street and I’m off to navigate the station, looking for my train back to Jersey. A bunch of high school students are crowding the walk way, which I am pretty sure is a New York teens most marketable skill. I’m not upset they’re in the way, I’ve gotten used to it. Teenagers are dumb, space taking, trend setting weirdos and I guess in a lot of ways I wish I still was one. Because being 25 is like being a teen, except I don’t have four years to fall in love with every girl I ever speak to or steal vanilla extract and try to get drunk off of it behind the middle school on a Saturday night. I have to start living or I’m going to look back and wonder why I didn’t live and that terrifies me a little.
Because what if I never feel like I’m home.
And what if that means I never feel like I’ve lived.
I catch the train to New Jersey immediately, there’s nearly no one on it. But there’s one man sitting across from me in a business suit. And I can’t help but think if he feels the same way I do.
I wonder if he feels like he’s home.
Or if he worries that youth is passing him by too quickly.
Maybe he worries that sometimes he’s said too much, and other times he never said enough.
Dan Campbell sings about growing up and how it makes him nervous and how his friends seem to be doing ok. And I think he wonders if anyone feels the same way he does.
I think I will always wonder that, I just hope I won’t always wonder if I’ll feel like I’m home at the next city I live in, because that seems like a life I’m not fit to live.
Or it’s the only life I can live, I’m not sure of that yet. I don’t know if I’m ok with not being sure of something or if I just accepted it a long time ago as a fact of life. Dan Campbell shouts into my ears.
“We all wanna be great men and there’s nothing romantic about it. I just want to know that I did all I could with what I was given.”
GUYS. #WelcomeToNewYork will be up on iTunes any minute now. This is not a drill!! GO GO GO
Photo credit: sixtiequeen on tumblr
Taylor I’m trying to cloud welcome to new york to device but it’s not working please advise
She is the weirdest person I know
I send a “happy birthday Carly!” Video to my niece. This is the picture I get in response.
Chicken Alfredo is just grown up Mac and cheese with chicken nuggets