Tuesday, August 2, 2011

8 o'clock in Charlottesville

It's eight AM in Charlottesville, and here I sit at a little coffee shop where my friend works, both waiting for the time when I have to leave, my bags draped around me like the weird hobo that I am to walk to the train station and head back North. I have just enough money to get me back to NYC and not much else, and while I do worry about that, I can't seem to care much at the moment. There's no point really.

I'm sad I wont be going back to school this semester. As the dates dwindle down summer and closer to the beginning of the school year, I feel the pull to be going back. I miss the darkroom a lot, though I am disappointed in my work for the summer. I'm confused about what to do with my time, energy, money, etc. Sortof sitting in the eye of a storm and instead of preparing or ripping into it myself, drawing on it's energy, I stay there, looking up and wondering who I am and what I'm doing here.

I guess not much has changed. I try not to be down, to instead just be steady in my own somber attitude. "Serious" as my friend would say, "I'm a serious person". And I believe myself to be a serious person, too, serious thinking most of the time, at least. I think in prose and poetry and love, albeit chaotic and confusing... Sometimes angry.

Life is so full of options, you know? At any point on any day, I have so many choices to make, that I could make... some of which would change my life completely. It seems that NYC wants me though, or my heart wants NYC... Even if I long to return to the safety of my school and my hated Utica. There is comfort and normalcy in it that I love and despise there...

So much of me is a rebellious heart and soul, and until somewhere around 7th grade, I thought everyone was that way. I remember sitting in social studies and having our teacher give us this kind of sociology quiz about human behavior and such, asking what we thought was true or not. The only question I remember asked about whether most people prefered structured routine over a more spontanious life and I was so sure in the latter, and shocked to find that false.

Sometimes I think about that and I still don't know what to think of it.

1 comment:

Seriously, Ian. said...

I think most are afraid of living the life that you have so bravely made for yourself, I grew up being taught to be very straight laced and structured but I too have itchy feet and the need for more twists and turns in my story. Sometimes it is easy to become discouraged but try to keep in mind that most people haven't had as much life as you.