Ramblings of the Friendless in over whelmed...?
- Jan. 29, 2016, 12:20 a.m.
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- Public
I am lonely. I have lived here for 5 years and I have not made any friends. I know people. I probably know more people than most because when I got here I very aggressively socialized in order to recreate what I thought was a normal way to live. If I leave my house I usually run into at least one person that I know. I will know their name, the name of their spouse, their dog, where they went to school, where they work, usually some manner of gossip that was conveyed to me from some other person I know similarly and other tid bits and such. I assume they have similar information about me. But that is pretty much it.
I need to side track a bit I think. I have made friends. You know the sort that you click with immediately and almost instantly have a secret language with because you both just get each other and can laugh and have real conversation without need to explain things and just connect on some deeper level. I have met three of them. They have all moved away. I may have stopped trying at this point. Perhaps it is because at the root of our friendship was the feeling of being very alien in this city.
Maybe the problem isn’t them, it’s me. I do not fit in here. I feel like an anthropologist most of the time. Things are odd to me that are totally normal to everyone. Things other people don’t even think is a thing. Like driving. It is a thing that nobody thinks twice about. Nobody. It is just a normal thing that everybody does. I have a view of the highway from the fourth floor. I watch them, hundreds, thousands of them everyday in their cars. I technically know how to do this thing. They gave me a license to do it and everything. I have even done it, I drove the best friend, her cat and all of her shit all the way from 43rd St in NYC to Miami. But I don’t get it. It seems down right fucking unnatural to me and insanely terrifying. I am really fucking scared of it. I don’t like. I don’t do it. I prefer not to have to even be a passenger. Unless it is in an Uber and for reason that makes me feel ok. That makes no sense what so ever. But alas, this is how I feel. I get scared just watching it from up here.
I have totally lost track of what I came here to write about so I am going to stop. I have become very bad at this. I have started writing on hundred and fifty million notes on your entries and then deleted them and run away and hid because I can’t think of anything witty or profound or helpful to say. I blame the facebook and that fucking like button.
.bob ⋅ January 29, 2016
the nice thing about this new place is you really don't have to be witty at all. we are mostly all old and over it. then, when someone IS witty, it feels organic and effortless. but prosebox seems much more utilitarian. it's refreshing.
keep writing.
Athena .bob ⋅ February 01, 2016
totally. there's no art here. we are too tired for art. but we are not too tired for each other.
sarahbaby. ⋅ January 29, 2016
My friend calls her car a Very Elaborate Wheelchair which makes it sound completely absurd and I love it.
Write whatever you want -- here and in notes! We're all just thrilled to have you around!
Satine ⋅ January 29, 2016
I can't even imagine, even in SF I felt like an alien 80% of the time. I am the exact same way about cars, but luckily in NYC this is normal? Ish? So thrilled you are writing here, such a treat for me.