I fit in while living in Brooklyn. It may be true I was a bit of a chameleon during those days, but we all were. White, Black, and Spanish kids all playing together, in our minds all alike, but with so many differences, not able to be seen by the naked eye, one would be astonished by our solidarity. At 15. I moved, and suddenly everyone looked just like me, but I soon found they weren't. I attached myself to those I most felt comfortable and today, those I call my dear friends. I speak to them via text or messenger less often than I should, but that two-way street has always felt like it was on a very steep hill. I blame no one.
So it's been four, almost four and a half years, since I've journeyed northwest and I have lived now in four different places. It started with my father, who I grew apart from. We grew apart more because of who we were than any other thing. He valued his friends and minor acquaintances over family, something I've learned through letting go of some painful times, he's always done. I do not expect any epiphanies from him, but who knows, if my grandmother could let go of smoking and racism after 92 years, living the last eight, as an odd "love-all" being, then who knows. I mean, I can look in the mirror and see how much I've changed, both emotionally and physically, in just four years, and believe that anything is truly possible. That being said, deep down, people don't change. So where does that leave me?
I've been here for a little over four years and I've yet to become true friends with a single person. I have started going out and I exchange niceties with those serving my drinks or sitting on either side, but nothing has materialized into the type of relationship where I'm sharing deep thoughts, hopes, dreams, and failures. I have lived with others for four years and realize our differences are what makes us unique, but it's also what keeps us from connecting. I also realize that as I've grown older, I have less and fewer similarities and that in the end is what connects us. The old cliche of "opposites attract," is rarely meant to suggest this is so for the long haul, although I do have old friends who I share little in common with. I also work with much younger people, who despite liking me, I assume, have no interest in being social with me. I completely understand as nobody wants to hang out with their dad or weird drunk uncle. So it leaves me with a lot of alone time, but why? Why have someone who has always been able to go out alone and strike up a conversation, even immediate bonds of eternal friendship, changed so much?
Over the past four years, I've realized that I've somehow, whether it be home, work, or social outings, surrounded myself with people who care more about material objects than people. Most people don't admit or even know this is who they are. It's the one thing I'm sure of in my life. I don't want a thing. If I didn't need food, shelter, clothing, and transportation, I'd own nothing People are constantly talking about what they bought, where they went for dinner, coffee, or some other place to mindlessly spend money, and I can't quite grasp the concept. Sure, I go out for a drink, so I don't mean this to be completely judgemental, but do you really need a seventh spatula or another throw rug? Was that $3 coffee any better than the coffee you made for breakfast? And for me, imagine inviting a friend over for that cup of coffee and sitting in private chatting, instead of a place with a drive-thru? And the materialism overwhelms people. People are obsessed with new, bigger, better, the next model. I've owned one television since I was 10-years-old and I watched the same shows and movies as the people who have spent thousands, maybe even tens of thousands on the newer, bigger, next model. Televisions in every room, so you never miss a moment, never grasping the moments you've lost with the person right next to you. I listen to young people who get together on dates to watch their favorite show and it's so hard not to point out that this relationship will make them feel as if being content is true love.
I would spend every day with someone I simply like if I could have a great conversation, and while I am not implying I dislike people who don't view the world through the same glasses I do, I don't think I'm wrong. I also believe it's selfishness, which is not all that bad if done to be with one's self. I'm all about embracing one's solitude, but don't do it while you're with someone. I also have noticed that people leave others a lot of work, chores, responsibility, which adds to this selfishness/solitude with others game. Over the past four years, whether it be home or work, I am constantly and consistently cleaning up after others, almost always going unnoticed, unappreciated, and even dismissed as not being done. I take care of things for people without ever mentioning it, for my benefit, but mostly for them, because I view us as a team, and if they look bad or fail, it is a reflection on me. I've always done this and it's funny because my mother always told me this was part of who I was and I always felt I was lazy, because I never took time to do things, but as she pointed out, "for yourself." So why do I attract myself to these situations, jobs, relationships? I wasn't always like this, or at the very least, not to this extent. I do allow others to do for me, but there is guilt, and if you knew me now, you'd know it eats me up inside, because to repay those I must, it means to sacrifice what I don't want in life. Or am I just telling myself that?
So it's been four and a half years since I've had my kind of conversation about film, art, literature (OK, with my father, this was nightly), politics, religion, philosophy, psychology, sociology, cooking, or even sports. It's been that long since I've been with anyone who understands what makes me tick. I've tried to talk about things, local travel, shopping, weather, traffic, even hunting (ugh), just to fit in. I've even agreed with people I completely disagree with in principle, just to attempt to find common ground, almost always having the conversation end with them just happy I see it their way. I've smiled when looking at things I'd never buy or never appreciate, or while listening to descriptions of a fast food meal or some $3 coffee. I don't know if moving to another world will make me fit in or if this is it. Maybe I can go to my standby argument as blame social media, a place where I have had these conversations I crave, without being to look at someone, touch them, enjoy their smile or laughter, maybe even their tears and sadness. Maybe it's simply feeling. Have I lost that? Every day I work with kids, I think "No," but that only lasts but a few moments. My time with Swag brings me joy like I had when Shane an I would chat food, film, or funny jokes.
I would like to end this rambling with a little note that I probably should have inserted as a preface. This is not looking for pity at Christmastime, but this blog came from experiencing a weekend with a friend from "the past" where I got to experience everything I miss on a daily basis. It made me wonder why I haven't been able to find anyone like this here. Am I looking or am I shutting people out, building walls, and accepting solitude? Why do I always feel like the odd middle piece in a giant puzzle with all end and corner pieces?
So it's been four, almost four and a half years, since I've journeyed northwest and I have lived now in four different places. It started with my father, who I grew apart from. We grew apart more because of who we were than any other thing. He valued his friends and minor acquaintances over family, something I've learned through letting go of some painful times, he's always done. I do not expect any epiphanies from him, but who knows, if my grandmother could let go of smoking and racism after 92 years, living the last eight, as an odd "love-all" being, then who knows. I mean, I can look in the mirror and see how much I've changed, both emotionally and physically, in just four years, and believe that anything is truly possible. That being said, deep down, people don't change. So where does that leave me?
I've been here for a little over four years and I've yet to become true friends with a single person. I have started going out and I exchange niceties with those serving my drinks or sitting on either side, but nothing has materialized into the type of relationship where I'm sharing deep thoughts, hopes, dreams, and failures. I have lived with others for four years and realize our differences are what makes us unique, but it's also what keeps us from connecting. I also realize that as I've grown older, I have less and fewer similarities and that in the end is what connects us. The old cliche of "opposites attract," is rarely meant to suggest this is so for the long haul, although I do have old friends who I share little in common with. I also work with much younger people, who despite liking me, I assume, have no interest in being social with me. I completely understand as nobody wants to hang out with their dad or weird drunk uncle. So it leaves me with a lot of alone time, but why? Why have someone who has always been able to go out alone and strike up a conversation, even immediate bonds of eternal friendship, changed so much?
Over the past four years, I've realized that I've somehow, whether it be home, work, or social outings, surrounded myself with people who care more about material objects than people. Most people don't admit or even know this is who they are. It's the one thing I'm sure of in my life. I don't want a thing. If I didn't need food, shelter, clothing, and transportation, I'd own nothing People are constantly talking about what they bought, where they went for dinner, coffee, or some other place to mindlessly spend money, and I can't quite grasp the concept. Sure, I go out for a drink, so I don't mean this to be completely judgemental, but do you really need a seventh spatula or another throw rug? Was that $3 coffee any better than the coffee you made for breakfast? And for me, imagine inviting a friend over for that cup of coffee and sitting in private chatting, instead of a place with a drive-thru? And the materialism overwhelms people. People are obsessed with new, bigger, better, the next model. I've owned one television since I was 10-years-old and I watched the same shows and movies as the people who have spent thousands, maybe even tens of thousands on the newer, bigger, next model. Televisions in every room, so you never miss a moment, never grasping the moments you've lost with the person right next to you. I listen to young people who get together on dates to watch their favorite show and it's so hard not to point out that this relationship will make them feel as if being content is true love.
I would spend every day with someone I simply like if I could have a great conversation, and while I am not implying I dislike people who don't view the world through the same glasses I do, I don't think I'm wrong. I also believe it's selfishness, which is not all that bad if done to be with one's self. I'm all about embracing one's solitude, but don't do it while you're with someone. I also have noticed that people leave others a lot of work, chores, responsibility, which adds to this selfishness/solitude with others game. Over the past four years, whether it be home or work, I am constantly and consistently cleaning up after others, almost always going unnoticed, unappreciated, and even dismissed as not being done. I take care of things for people without ever mentioning it, for my benefit, but mostly for them, because I view us as a team, and if they look bad or fail, it is a reflection on me. I've always done this and it's funny because my mother always told me this was part of who I was and I always felt I was lazy, because I never took time to do things, but as she pointed out, "for yourself." So why do I attract myself to these situations, jobs, relationships? I wasn't always like this, or at the very least, not to this extent. I do allow others to do for me, but there is guilt, and if you knew me now, you'd know it eats me up inside, because to repay those I must, it means to sacrifice what I don't want in life. Or am I just telling myself that?
So it's been four and a half years since I've had my kind of conversation about film, art, literature (OK, with my father, this was nightly), politics, religion, philosophy, psychology, sociology, cooking, or even sports. It's been that long since I've been with anyone who understands what makes me tick. I've tried to talk about things, local travel, shopping, weather, traffic, even hunting (ugh), just to fit in. I've even agreed with people I completely disagree with in principle, just to attempt to find common ground, almost always having the conversation end with them just happy I see it their way. I've smiled when looking at things I'd never buy or never appreciate, or while listening to descriptions of a fast food meal or some $3 coffee. I don't know if moving to another world will make me fit in or if this is it. Maybe I can go to my standby argument as blame social media, a place where I have had these conversations I crave, without being to look at someone, touch them, enjoy their smile or laughter, maybe even their tears and sadness. Maybe it's simply feeling. Have I lost that? Every day I work with kids, I think "No," but that only lasts but a few moments. My time with Swag brings me joy like I had when Shane an I would chat food, film, or funny jokes.
I would like to end this rambling with a little note that I probably should have inserted as a preface. This is not looking for pity at Christmastime, but this blog came from experiencing a weekend with a friend from "the past" where I got to experience everything I miss on a daily basis. It made me wonder why I haven't been able to find anyone like this here. Am I looking or am I shutting people out, building walls, and accepting solitude? Why do I always feel like the odd middle piece in a giant puzzle with all end and corner pieces?
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