What are we doing? Do any of us really know?
At some point in my childhood, writing became therapeutic. I wrote to escape my parents arguing, to receive even a momentary sense of calm after one of the many boys broke my heart, or perhaps to use the paper as a figurative punching bag after another friend walked away from me without explanation, never to look back. Some times I knew why, most of the times I didn't. Apparently to most people I'm not worth a second chance. I won't deny some times I deserved it, like when I told a mutual friend that I knew our best friend's dad was gay when I had promised not to or the time I asked my best friend if I could have a photo that I saw of us in her room and when she said no, I stole it. I thought about that recently and how that could never happen now with scanners and cell phones. If we were in seventh grade today, I could've borrowed it and we'd still be friends.
But most of the times I've had no idea what I said or did. And even for the ones that I do, were they ever really real friends if they would give up on me that easily? With the exception of my parents and my friend Shangry, I can't remember the last time that someone called or texted me to genuinely ask how I was doing, or to hang out. Maybe I haven't been the best of friends, but got dammit, I just want someone that loves me enough as a friend to call me out on what hurt them and give me a chance to make it right. I just want people to forgive me as much as I forgive them. To stay when things are rough, even if they need space to heal.
I'm not in a good place right now. I can't think of a time when I felt more alone. I have friends here, but I haven't had a best friend or friends since I left Florida. People that I trust, that I hang out with regularly, whom I laugh with and who I call when I need someone. I don't have that here. Perhaps it's the city, it really can be merciless. If I'm honest, the last time that I truly felt alive was in 2013 when I had my last crush. He gave me a reason to wake up in the morning and someone to dream about as I fell asleep. I hate to feel dependent on someone or something for my happiness, but then again, when was I ever in control of my emotions? I suppose we're all dependent on something for our happiness, whether it's a cool breeze, the sun, a certain smell or...people...or whatever it is that produces that adrenaline rush or that calm stillness that makes us sigh and take it that feeling. I just wish I could take that feeling with me, but it's always so fleeting, gone before I can really capture it. I want that feeling always, but maybe it's impossible.
I think that's why I take photographs. They capture moments in time that will never be again. People move away, they die, buildings are demolished, graffiti is painted over. Everything is so fragile. Childhood feels like a lifetime ago, so does high school and college. Maybe it's a mid-life crisis, when I realize that my biological clock is ticking and soon I will have to make decisions regarding children, especially if I don't find someone to be with within the next few years. It always seemed like so far away, but now it's not.
I've been standing at this crossroads for awhile now. Hell, I think I may have even laid down and taken a nap. There are many forks in the road but I'm too afraid to choose one. It's comfortable here. Despite everything else, I know this place and it's easy to navigate. Florida to NYC was done with ease, but putting my creations out there in the world... that scares the living hell out of me.
And then there's that thing that everyone is required to do to live on this planet, at least without condemnation - contribute. I want to provide something meaningful, but it doesn't seem genuine when it's forced. I don't want to work. I just want to travel and photograph and eat local cuisine, stay in hostels and meet new people, to have a blog and have my photographs be published. And if I happen to make a documentary or seven, that's cool too. But I didn't ask to come into this world, none of us did, so why are we always being forced into abiding by its rules? Cause I don't want any part of that. It's the reason I feel so shitty, it's the reason many of us stress as much as we do. It's the reason for abusing substances and doing extreme things that can cause us danger.
We're not mean to live like this.
