Irony just strikes you in the face. You wake up, you think about everything, how lucky you are, how grateful you should be for all the great things that have ever been part of your life. You can’t help but think about how you’re better off than so many other people all over the world. How ill you could really be but you’re not. How restless you could be but you’re not. You’re not saying thanks, because there’s no one to thank for this but you recognize you had not had this feeling for a long time. This is the greatest comfort. This is the perfect sense of relief.
We just think it is part of our own cycle. We just like to believe there is nothing wrong. For once, we are satisfied with what we have. Unfortunately whenever this feeling is present, no one can help but wonder if there must be something wrong. There must be something wrong. Nothing makes sense. There’s no real reason why you should feel complete and utter comfort. You do not deserve it. At least that’s what you are told. But again, you fall for it. You believe everything will work out just fine. Go ahead; let her know exactly how you feel. She will understand. She has been waiting for you to do this for over a year, just like you were. This is it. Do not miss this opportunity. And then, everything falls apart.
You either told her or you didn’t. You did? Then your hopes were full of shit. You didn’t, you will never know what could have happened. This is what’s you’ll know, she’s gone. The one that got away. No one like her will ever be there for you. You could’ve lied, at least played with it. Make her believe you’re dying to be with her, let her feel special, let her feel chased. This is said to be useful, somebody once said you could not surrender, never stop until you get what you want. Now you’re just making a fool of yourself. OR…You just had to pretend. Now you got what you wanted. Success. Taste this. Nothing will ever feel like this. You made it, you let your insides out and someone was there to catch you. To catch everything you had to let out, and it was the one you always wanted.
You’re always just a call away.
Now choose. We all love tragedy and most of us would think that if ever we were in this kind of situation, we would lose control, lose faith, lose hope, abandon ship. I would’ve normally lied, letting go of any chance of getting away with what I wanted. I tried to at first. I just couldn’t resist. So, you go ahead, you put out all the lines you were ever taught. You give the best out of yourself. You’ve been here before. Same girl, same place, same loss, same grasp at reality, same failures, same obnoxious feeling of restraint against what you once held oh so close. No way out. There should not be a reason for you to fail so miserably, but you do, every-single-time. The feeling is so familiar; you just have to go like a mouse through an already practiced maze. Only one way out. Is this how I really want to feel?
Now doubt sets in. What would be the wise thing to do? What is your choice?
I cannot give up. I will never give up. Same girl. Same story. Same problems. How could I ever let her go?
Irony just strikes you right in the face. The one person you would rather be with doesn’t know if you are the person they want to waste all of their time with. Irony is my biggest fear.
I only ever loved once.
We need poison sometimes.
So take another drink with me.” —“Ten” by Jimmy Eat World
3:43am on a Thursday, I took a cab about 10 blocks away from my place. Completely unnecessary but inexplicably needed at the time. It seems I was just walking around, looking for hope that never wanted to see me, wishing for luck that wouldn’t agree to meet me, striving for calm that was terrified of me, desiring feelings that weren’t looking for me. I felt lost. I feel lost. I had to get somewhere safe, fast. I was walking home but these horrible thoughts were just attacking me. I couldn’t help but feeling I was about to collapse.
Hope was all I needed, just to survive another day, but someone someday said hope was only something that held you down, and during those two drunken minutes before I got that cab it seemed it was the answer to all my questions. Luck had always been one of the most important aspects of my life, I always felt lucky, well not anymore, she ditched me about 6 months ago. The calm I had always had in my heart, the sincerity of never being uncertain about anything I said or thought; it vanished. Gone. All those feelings of strength, self-righteousness…I’m not even going to talk about that. Everything was just upside-down, again.
Walking downtown at almost 4:00am never seemed like a good idea, but with enough alcohol running through your blood nothing seems like a bad idea, does it? I’m half past dead right now, I need to get up in the morning. To do what? I’m not exactly sure. Maybe it’s just another of my crazy thoughts of never wasting a single day. My subconscious thoughts have total control over what I do. I will forever regret wasting one day in my life if I don’t take advantage of it. This time I’ll try to get a better grip on reality. There is nothing wrong with wasting your time, is it? I need to get up tomorrow. I have to.
I can walk home but it could take me over an hour to find my way back. I just feel like I’m really close.
I take this taxi cab halfway to my apartment. I just feel useless and dumb. Not even able to walk myself home? This shouldn’t be happening, not to me at least. Almost 4:00am and I can hardly walk, speak, or think. This happens every once in a while. No specific reason. It just happens. I try to think about what brought me up to this point tonight. What started the drinking tonight? What was I looking for? How was I hoping to feel after this? Losing control is bliss. If you think about it, bliss, is all we are looking for. This should be the reason for tonight, not some other lame love story, not some other problem at home, not just another work issue. Just looking for bliss.
Follow your bliss? Drink. Lose control. Bliss found. Now run.
It’s 3:48am, the cab drops me at my apartment building. I pay him and get out of the car. I just stand in front of the door, thinking, wondering; while this doorman can’t stop staring and trying to guess if I will ever be able to fit the key in there to open the door to my apartment. I struggle to get in but I manage to do it. He keeps on staring. I go to the elevator door. I turn back to face him, a Russian born character lost in time wearing his doorman uniform, belonging to a system I despise, committing to his minimum wage job, doing what he is told, possibly hating everyday of his life. I just think how we are not so different one from the other and I can’t help but ask “What ever happened to us?”
Bliss found. Stay.
Sunday night, I’m sick again, some sort of virus is getting the best of me today. It’s 11:51pm just 9 minutes away from a brand new day and I can’t help but think…what if I just built my own city? I’m not saying I despise the time and place that I find myself in at this very moment; I just can’t seem to find my real place in here.
It is not a problem of fitting in to be honest, or about belonging, is about looking at everything around you, around your life and watching how everything fades as the days go by. Nothing really sticks to you. Nothing is really that important. There is nothing that you are really passionate about. Nothing to fall for. You seem to be learning lessons every single day, a rough one, a useless one, a nice one, an important one, and you can’t help but notice that none of them stick. You just keep on making the same mistakes. What if it was all because of the place you’re in at the precise moment? If you could just feel like you can bear with all this by being somewhere else at that same moment, wouldn’t it be easier? Or maybe just by changing where you stand none of this would exist and not a single thing would seem like a burden?
So what if you were meant to be somewhere else, every single moment of your life you were just supposed to be somewhere else; and that is the reason that seems to keep troubling the way you see your life. Small town people want to live in the biggest city, big city folks just want their lives to stop being so hectic. We always think we were supposed to be someone else, to live somewhere else, to think otherwise. We hope for these things, long for them. We’re always looking for greener grass. I just think we are always looking forward to feel as if we were home.
The feeling of being home is just something that can’t really be described but you can describe the situations that make you feel that. You go away somewhere new, meet new people, see new things, try new stuff, it is all great for a couple of days and then there is just this feeling that you miss and you wonder what it is, hoping it’s not that you’re homesick because it would be ridiculous to complain about the situation you’re in and miss it once you finally get to step away from it. But once you come back to your day to day life, your boring, never-changing routine, there is a feeling for about 2 minutes where you are as happy as can be. You are close to what you know and there isn’t anything better than that. This feeling of being home, it happens to me, but it is never at home home, or with my situation, whenever I get away…that is home.
Even though I’m basically home, because this is where I live, where I was raised, where I know people and places, I am homesick half of the time. My mind just wanders hoping to get away, leave, quit this place, go home. It is even hard to concentrate at times when you cannot stop these thoughts of leaving, of getting away, and all I want is to get that feeling again. The only real problem is, what if I feel exactly the same once I get to this new home, to my long awaited space?…I’ll just go away, I’ll be home once I leave. As long as I’m leaving I will always be home.
I just think home is a very strong word and only a few can state they feel at home. I can’t.
Now, about this new city; I’m building it. No one is invited. I’m finally going home.