Don’t know why I’m deciding to do this now when I said I would do it when I arrived, like all things. My hair now reaches down to my hips and I feel that it is growing with the ideas that resides in my head. I don’t know what it is about this city that makes a person so driven to create, but I can’t help but let it creep into my eyelids and let it be all I can see when I shut my eyes. I don’t know if it’s the art that is spoken about in every conversation or the art that is spoken to you on every street corner but it has an alluring pull that makes it all feel so softly tenacious, like it is the only thing that holds you together on even the foggiest of days. When the heads on the street become too much to handle, I start to count the bricks on the walls and admire its strength and the way they all stand so well together. I feel that way since I have moved to the city. I feel the moments where I am most myself are the ones where I am in my head and the only thing guiding me is the ability to look at the world around me with photographic eyes. It is the way I am able to revel in any moment, whether it be full of noise or deficient of sound. I am able to stop time in my mind and take a moment to consume what is right in front of me. I am able to see things most people often overlook. I am able to fall madly in love with the simple and the mundane. I’m pretty sure that is a super power if you ask me, for us mere humans at least.
I’ve let sleep into my life again. I use to feel that every moment not awake was a moment wasted. Maybe it’s the way the sun literally hangs on my face in the mornings and makes me want to fall sleep just so I can wake up to it. Or how pleasant I feel when I’m laying sprawled out on the apartment’s wood floor at night trying to stretch the muscles that have worked so diligently, that nothing sounds more divine than crawling into bed and letting sleep pull me deeper. I’ve had this song living in my head and I hope it never leaves. I love you when you’re singing that song and I got a lump in my throat cause you’re gonna sing the words wrong. Being alone seems like the only thing I genuinely want to get to know, but it’s been that way since I now can remember. I constantly try reading the minds of the strangers that fill the streets, searching for an opening. I can’t help but wonder what the elderly listen to when they have music playing in their ears. Pretty sure I figured out I’m more introverted than not. It’s been 54 days and I never thought I’d miss a feeling more than I’ve missed a human being before. At times that worries me and then I remember that I don’t function a certain way, and I only know how to let go, so why can’t I shake this feeling? I find it weakening and not what I’m use to. This city all feels so natural and I keep writing that in my janky journal, natural. I don’t notice until I read what I have wrote and how I have used the word more times than necessary. The idea though, is exactly what I’ve been looking for. Far from being too comfortable but yet so natural it feels like home. I’m exactly where I’m suppose to be – every single moment of it.
-ripped straight out of my ‘janky’ journal. (sorry I called you that journal, I truthfully think you’re beautiful).