It’s been a while — again — since I’ve last written anything. Life has been extremely different lately since I’ve moved to Queens. It’s not that I don’t have the time to write, but the time I have to spend writing ends up going towards something more productive to make the day-to-day life easier.
I hope to get back into a better groove soon. Everything is still so new so I’m doing what I can to just get by and figure out how to prioritize my time better. As I write this, I’m sitting at my desk in the living room with the Ranger game streaming on the TV behind me. To my right is a window looking at a bunch of apartment buildings and clothing line poles.
Already, I can sense that this window is going to be a huge inspiration for my work, more specifically my thesis that I have yet to touch in 2019. That changes today though. I guess I’ll be using this post as a warmup? I hope you enjoy.
Your priorities change when you’re alone. When you’re with someone, you’re aware of their presence; your actions are guided by what they want and don’t want to do. It comes natural over time — you want to act as if you’re one.
But you’re never one. You hold onto your true self tightly. You’ve felt the pain of abandoning yourself and not quite getting everything you were back. The passing of time is permanent, along with its consequences.
One of those consequences is that you’re alone, staring out the window — a cliche you’re painfully aware of, but not quite in a position to do anything about — on a cloudy day, rainy day.
You’d like to go for a walk, but you don’t know if the sun will actually make it through the clouds or if another downpour will come the second you open the door. The way your life’s been going lately, you play it safe. And you hate the fact that you’re playing it safe.
You never played it safe. You know — another cliche — that life happens while you’re taking chances. Wait too long and you let it all pass you by. However, sometimes those chances don’t work in your favor. You act like they should because you’re trying; you believe the universe rewards those who try, who are broken, who keep getting back up despite the efforts they make to better their lives.
But chance is exactly that: you never know if it’s going to work out: you find the girl, you win her over, you marry her, and you settle and have kids. Or you don’t change, and she sees you fail time after time, not learning anything, falling for the same mistakes over and over again.
You tell her it’s in your nature to force yourself through life. Maybe you were cautious in the past, but you know where that got you (nowhere). Even now, as you pretend she’s behind you working on the couch you picked out together, you’re still thinking about how you could be doing more.
She would tell you to wait, to relax, to let life come to you, but you can’t. You have a complex, and it doesn’t matter how hard you try to adjust — you’re going to double down on your efforts and will your way to success.
However, the rain is inviting you to watch as it splashes the rooftops and runs down gutters. You’ve been watching unaware of what you were doing and why it was so enjoyable. Instead of staying a little longer, you shake your head and grab your phone. You have You up? texts to send.