[ALMOST] LIVING: PT.1

I remembered the entirety of my college experience more vividly than I did those four months after. I was living in a hazy state, where I was aware of everything around me, but felt nothing. I wanted it to be my best summer but it was so far from that. It wasn’t so much the lack of activity that made it unmemorable, as it was the lack of having any purpose whatsoever.

I filled my days with useless activity to occupy my mind ‘til bedtime so that I wouldn’t have to worry about the future I couldn’t see for myself.

I got on tinder and went on questionable dates. I let drunk people drive my dad’s car. I almost fucked someone on a bench in an open-field. I walked the streets of Westmont LA at night with people I didn't know. Strangers did coke in my mom’s car. And I let a date ditch me for a curvy girl at a party, where I didn’t know anyone.  

I’m more confused than ashamed or embarrassed. Most of the time I just went with the flow because I didn’t want to think. I just wanted to feel.

At the time, I thought this was fun and daring—I thought this was how I was supposed to spend my early 20s. But in retrospect, I’m just surprised I made it out alive.
 

ANYWHERE

This is the last place I want to be— couched in a spinning chair that twirls me round to see the grayed four corner cubicle that engulfs me. I want to be anywhere but here. Some place beyond the walls. Because there is where my mind precipitates self-doubts about my life, and I can’t seem to shut it out.

These days, I don’t feel like I’m living right, or maybe it’s the shock of coming into real life, where some don’t value you beyond your labor. So lately I’ve lacked a verve in my way, and it escapes me why that is or has to be. I don’t sing. I don’t write. I don’t dream. I don’t fight. What’s worse, I dwell on my shortcomings and how I’m struggling to keep my relationships alive. And it is hard.

It is hard not having friends around to make the hard less hard. It is hard to keep the close ones close. It is hard to keep the ones you care about abreast when you are only trying to make it through the day.

I am just thankful I got up today.

Late to work. Still in my seat. The overwhelming feeling of feeling incomplete. But I am thankful I made it up today.

Because there are days I’d rather lay forever—my body curled up on the small couch in my grandfather’s living room. At least there, the walls don’t exist. At least there, I am anywhere but here.  

Settling In

I graduated college jobless, disillusioned, and afraid.

I came back to Los Angeles, and I’ve been living with my family for the past few months. I applied to work at multiple places and never heard from a single one. The road was long and bleaker by the minute.

Shards of light among the hazy days kept my spirits afloat. I got calls from old friends that made me feel whole in ways I didn’t know I needed. I learned to connect with my community again, after being estranged from it for so long. And I got to see my dad on father’s day, crying as I heard him speak from behind the glass on a telephone wire. Those moments among the hardship sustained me.

My dad still writes me like he did back when I was in school, even though it’s been a while since I've written back. I’m a little speechless these days.

I’ve had to ruminate the realities that will quickly ensue upon his release. Recidivism is relentless. And I don't know that i'll ever be able to confront that again. 

But still, moments like seeing my mom smile, running in the night, strumming my guitar, writing poetry, and seeing old friends makes the hardship less hard. And I feel lucky to have these things.

I really am.