Saturday, August 8, 2009

Only the Lonely Can't Play





I miss New York. I miss my wild, brilliant friends plagued by curiosity, insomnia, and creativity. But, guess what?

In the city, I can disappear. I can peruse the streets at 3am and still find things to do. If not to do, then things to see. I can stand in the middle of Times Square just reading the Live News Feeds in technicolor, or I can visit the Internet Cafe just across the street from the Hello Kitty store.

I don't think it was ever really about the city, I think it is more about the anonymity. Someplace you can be yourself, and never worry about being judged for being different. I don't fit in here. But to be fair, I don't really fit in anywhere.

Who knew that loneliness can become a family in its own right? Always there, and always familiar. Who would have believed that solitude can become our greatest companion, and that strangers can become our very best friends. I'm getting older now, and I'm not so sure I like it as much anymore...

I can wake up old friends that actually dare to sleep before the sun comes up. So while you the world sleeps, I write. I dig. I learn, I question, and I write.

To Randall, Wendy, Rob, Robert, Christopher Martin, and a few others that got lost along the way; please know that I still grieve for each and every one of you. I mourn the loss of friendships we once shared, and there is an emptiness in my life that memories and photographs will never fill.

But perhaps most of all, I grieve for my self. I grieve for the person I used to be. The person I almost was. The person I believed I would become. The person you left left behind.

To some: Thanks For Giving. To others: Good Luck ForGetting.

Elyssa


The Dark Night Returns
I think it is more about the anonymity. Someplace you can be yourself, and never worry about being judged for being different. In the city, I can disappear. I can peruse the streets at 3am and still find things to do. If not to do, then things to see.
http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/1110764/the_dark_night_returns.html

1 comment:

  1. I empathize with your last paragraph. I spend many nights, and mornings and afternoons feeling the same way. I can't tell you how many times I have asked myself what happened to my life. Where did I leave the man I had planned on being? When did I become who I am instead of who I thought I would be?

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