Like tonight. Heading home..I've never felt so alone.
Yet, so free.
I feel good about being able to write this. But I also feel that these moments come with a price.
It wasn't much. I know that people reading this are expecting something to have actually happened. But all I really did was catch a cab home from work. The only thing, I don't call a cab to the restaurant I work at I usually walk down to the bar district close by and just hop into one of the ten cabs that permanently sit there and rotate from back to front.
The usual crowd was there. Drunk and munching on pizza. Some were dancing. Some arguing. It was the same old same old but some nights I'm amazed at how life can strike you as so oddly beautiful. Or ugly, I mean it's all kind of one thing really. It's this whole beautiful and ugly picture of what alcohol does to people. I stand in stark contrast. Stone cold sober and rather impatient waiting in line for some greasy pizza to take home with me.
I get in this cab and the first thing I notice is a greasy paper plate from the very same pizza place I was just at. I'm instantly uncomfortable. The walls around me seem to be closing in. I find immediate statisfaction in lowering my window completely and shoving my head outside. Cruising down portage on a cool evening after spending ten hours in a kitchen is quite nice. I check my phone and scan through the instagram photos and I'm again hit with this feeling that can be either good or bad. But I'm a rather isolated guy from the rest of the world. I don't know exactly when it all happened either. But I spend an extraordinary time by myself outside of work.
It's hard to really put into perspective for you guys. But looking through those photos gave me the feeling of peeking through the window of other lives. And I know the internet is this huge mirage of success and fun because people have the power to present themselves in a certain way on the internet and they use that power. I think we all do. From the snazzy profile pic to the updates of our world travels.
I'm more alone than i've ever been in my entire life (don't worry mom) and i'm also changing as an individual. Have you ever felt yourself changing? I guess people call this growing up. My friends are busy people. Two of my closest friends are in Orlando right now cheering their asses off at worlds. I hope they know they lift me up in a different way. And I haven't really had the chance to just sit down and have a beer with them in what feels like forever. April has just been sliding by..(This is a total trail off of thought and now I'll return)
But I digress. I'm sitting in this cab and i'm on my phone flipping through everyone's lives and steadily becoming convinced that I'm always going to be alone. It's the balance that I need to find. Because here I am groaning about loneliness but I choose it most of the time. I tend to feel alone in large crowds. Preferring a quieter setting with a good conversation.
My god, I love a good conversation. And so I look up and try my luck with the cab driver. He's startled by my sudden voice. But we get to talking and he's from the Ukraine. Came here because of the violence. I suppose this is the Canadian dream. His wife is a school teacher, he has two kids. They do what they have to do to make the ends meet. We talked politics, the war, society. Soon i'm in front of my apartment. Maybe a little too soon. I know the walls will close in again. I tip him well. He swivels in his seat, suprised, and thanks me earnestly.
Nah, thank you.
I drag myself up the stairs and start the water for my nightly bath. My brain pulses with creativity. My body aches and I remind myself to:
a)always have a cold beer or gin and tonic waiting for me at home
b)to get a fucking car already
c) write more
A girl at my work is leaving and it sucks because, she's everything a poet needs to be inspired. You'd have to meet her. But I wrote something not necessarily about her. I don't ever really write about people in specific. I find it stifles creativity. But it's the aura people release sometimes. Some people are just characters.
She was cultured
The world behind the words she spoke
Had been to the moon and back
Still she'd rather hangout in bed
Watching old sitcoms
Blowing dust off cd-roms
Playing mixes I made and sweated over a little too much
Trying to find something in myself I could never touch
Tried to hide my cold eyes with lavish gestures and vicious lies
But she believed in me.
I swear..I
Lost my train of thought
I just saw the bright lights dissapear
No choice but to trail away
If you drive really fast down the main strip. Things become a blur. And you can just feel the energy. The heartbeat of the city.
-Dev
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