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Free Writing - Take 79

When things dawn on you, they are usually positive things. A glimmer of light in a dark day or maybe a minor epiphany. Recently a lot has dawned on me and I am not sure if they are positive things. I used to laugh at how everyone I've ever had a relationship with, was still a friend. As recently as a year ago, I used to talk to everyone I'd ever dated after the age of 21. Today, it dawned on me that I speak to one and the reality is, it's been years since we've actually spoken. It's also dawned on my that when I moved, I spoke or texted weekly to about 20 people. Within a month or two that had dwindled to eight. Now it's about three. This past month, I made 35 minutes worth of calls and had 200 texts. I used to make 1500-2000 per month. Sure I use other means of social media, but there's still that feeling that I don't belong in the place I called home for almost 30 years, which at times become hard to take, for no other reason than I don't feel at home where I am. I feel like I left a place where everyone's life revolved around comparing themselves to others, to a place where nobody gives a shit about anyone else, but themselves. Ithaca, for all it's liberal glory, is the most self centered place in the universe. Nobody cares what your favorite place to eat is, because they want what they want. The sad part is I'm basing this only on people that have already been deemed good people. The reality is, aside from two people I've known my entire life and a hippie next door neighbor (who isn't only the salt of the earth, he has the salt of the earth stuck in his bare feet), I don't like anyone I've met. Sure, I can get along with fucking Manson, because that's who I am. I can pretend to be anyone's best friend, but it's a town of spoiled brat hipsters, trying so hard to fit in with the entitled-for-no-reason grey hairs, that I can't even successfully google search a sports bar, without it taking me 30 miles away. Maybe 30 miles away is grand, but I'm not spending the time or energy to visit a town known for it's NASCAR track, just to have a beer and a plate of nachos that isn't served by a barista whose father could buy and sell my old town, but wants me to listen to their short story about their struggle to be seen. It's dawned on me that as cynical I get, I miss the two or three people who talk no shit, take no shit and who will call me out on my shit. There are four people in the world that do this and I miss them. Sadly, ones in Florida, one is married with problems of her own and the last is enjoying a rebirth of sorts. The last one, is the last one. The one I can't lean on, because they were my crutch, but they are also the one who makes me dawn on things I don't want to. Like my mother and the toast that didn't happen on election day, Hanukkah, her birthday and I'm sure on Mother's Day. These were never afterthoughts back "home" and yet they are now. Which makes me wonder where the hell have I landed?

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