entry for 9/13/10
2:36 am
Leaning back against the wall, can feel the pounding of my heart vibrating the drywall. Feeling painfully apathetic, unaccomplished; what is there to do here where everything already seems perfect? Nothing to explore, nowhere to see. Miss the ugly concrete, ugly decay, ugly people. Miss anything and everything ugly. Can feel myself getting healthier, looking better. Trying to fight it. I go for junk food binges and take my drugs in the middle of the night to induce insomnia. Doesn’t help. Catch myself sleeping during the day, compensating, growing better despite myself.
Goddamn romance. Meet nice girls but miss my old girl, miss her problems, her flaws, doubts. Leaves me feeling more and more hollow, as though filth was the only substance I had. Soul scraped clean, mind unencumbered. I should like this. I should be happy. I’m glad to be away from home. But was home ever home? Was home really the streets of Queens, where sullen faced passerby made a skill of ignoring each other and hustlers hawked their wares through strip mall shops that were perpetually going out of business. The mainstreet here has restaurants, a coffee shop, some clothing outlets. Everything is stable. No one here claims to sell 100% human hair.
I think what kills me is that these people have always been happy. They never had to breathe polluted air, walk through a nasty part of town, take the 3:00 am bus home with a violently ill immigrant. I’m sure they have seen difficulties, but difficulties have never been their lives. Their lives have been comfortable, upper-middle class affairs without money worries. 55 guitars! That’s how many my friend’s dad has sitting in his basement, collecting dust. He bought them “on a whim”. These are the kind of people I’m surrounding myself with. Not sure what to do with them.
Sure I’ll find something.