Loose Change

If you can make it here. You can make it anywhere.

It's come to the break point. My time in NYC hinges on whether or not chance befalls me. To cater to the wills of the affluent and continue my meager lifestyle or to go home?

Did the big bad city chew me up and spit me out?

NfromNYC June 2008 - ? (Now?)

I remember when my notes held love and passion and promise.

"Being grown up isn't half as fun as growing up."

A. I miss you. I won't give up till you know how I feel.

Just after I wrote that last blog. I broke down. I guess I wasn't as at peace as I thought.

Does everyone look back and wish they'd done their day differently? Just the little things. Been a little slicker. Talked a little slower. Smiled a bit more.

Hugged just a bit longer.

"The only thing that matters is just following your heart and eventually you'll finally get it right."

If I left here. Would anyone feel it? Would my words and actions resonate in peoples minds and bones?

This blog is my unopenned letter to the world.

World, I love you. Just sometimes, I wish you made more sense.

"Discordant words at best... Confusing and uninteresting... A real let down." - An excert from my review of this blog.

-N

Pulse Normal

It's been over a month since Last I wrote.

It's been over 2 weeks since my sister killed herself.

I no longer hear music in my life.

I no longer see Manhattan's youth drapped in deep reds and vibrant violets.
It all seems dulled.

Its hard to hear the melody in my words.

All but the last few "Why?"s have left me. And now I feel left with a hole that, I suppose, I will come to accept.

I woke up early today and got dressed. I walked through the cold rain for 15 blocks. It was humbling. And comforting. And fitting.

I've lost all sense of where to go from here. Where do I go from here?

We all remember a simpler time. An easier time. A happier time. But it's been so long since then. This is the first day in a long time, when I can stay inside and feel selfish. I sit on this fire escape and want to cry. Because I haven't since I came back to NYC.

This paragraph is for K.

I did write you a letter. A long time ago. And then It stayed in my pocket for weeks. Then a jealous girl ripped it up. And I yelled. For the first time in a long time. I yelled. I think about needing to finish something new for you. And I will.

So for you, and the others who've gotten a note. Or written about this blog online. I write today. For me too. Don't let me seem that selfless. 3 notes. And 1 for K.

"Who do you carry the torch for my young man? Do you believe in anything?"

- N

Welcome to the New Year

Tomorrow I move into my new apartment. All this time in between made me realize, It's really important to have your own space. I couldn't write. I couldn't be alone. Listen to music just for me.

"I'm not smiling behind this fake veneer."

Sometimes I wonder why I came here.

Sometimes I wonder why I leave my house.

This whole wide world isn't as bad as my pictures I paint. But it's real easy to look out on it with scorn. And not to be mad. Or sad. But just to expect more of it.

"I am often. Interrupted or completely ingored. But most of all, I'm bored."

I see people I've known and lived with for months now, change because a situation does. It's hard to see people not give a shit on a daily basis.

"I'd rather be home feeling violent and lonely."

On bad days I want to cry. I want to scream at them all about... Everything. Why they are wrong. Why the should listen to me. But I don't. And such is status quo.

"I'm not trying to sound so insincere. But the postcard, taped to the freezer says wish you were here. Oh how I wish I could disappear."

Sometimes, on good days, I want to walk out. Buy my ticket out. And you know. Jump.

Would I be happier somewhere else?

I dont know.

Is it just a change of scenery I need?

Maybe.

"I wanna thank you for being a part of my forget-me-nots and marrigolds."

I hope this change with this move. I hope things will be better. I hope. I do.

"This must be it. Welcome to the New Year."

Fire Gazing

So I've been reconnecting. In a way. Also, disconnecting.

Caring less about things that seem trivial. Things I've come to hold important.

And old friends. Well... They're old friends for a reason.

"Don't Analyze me. There's no apparent link between the day he said he'd leave and my..."

So I sat there. Around a fire. And burnt a lot away. Surrounded by people who mean a lot to me. People who know me... Well... Better than I'd like. I sipped a guiness. I soaked in the summer stars and the smell of dry wood ashing.

"...Reoccurring dreams and how I just can't sleep unless I've had a drink... Or five."

So now. Like it or not. I need it again. I'm going back tonight. Sober? Sober. But I need my fix of happiness and peace. Because it's hard to come by here.

So he said to me, "New York City is your life style. But not your persona."

He may be right. I may be a bad fit here. In the long run.

I feel bad for not writing enough this month, even as I enjoy it so. But it's hard to sit down and write. Especially for me if someone is here. Also, I've been moving. I know it sounds like rationalizing and excuses. But, I feel guilty, and It'll change. I promise. Don't give up.

Do you belong where you are?

It's okay to not. It's okay to be wrong.

And it sure seems like I am. But. I. Unlike a lot of them. Am not afraid of change.

- N

Not A Give Up.

"I've gotta lotta things to do tonight. I'm so sick of making lists, of things I'll never finish."

I've been living this way for a long time now.

"But If I had a little more time. to. kill. I'd settle every stupid little thing. Yeah. You'd think that I would."

I need a clean slate. My good friend made that point. He Said "N. Whatever you're looking for at _______. It's not there. You need to move on and find something new."

"I wonder if I'll ever lose my mind. I tried hard for awhile. But then I kinda gave up."

And he's right. I can feel summer creeping in me. I can feel all the same pain of this time last year.

"I so wanna get back on track. And I'll do whatever it takes. Even if it kills me."

Theres so much you want to know. So much I could tell you. If only. If only, you'd let me.

Do you have something you never realized means a lot to you? It's irrational. I know it is. But I realized it a few weeks back. Penguins make me think of my childhood.

They make me feel young. And happy. And not alone.

I could use a penguin right now. Because we're all just rushing towards nothing. And I'd atleast like a friend with me.

I wish I had more time to kill for you. But it might be all used up.

- N

Art and Dirt

So I looked down on time spent, in the form of paper and ink. It was a painful moment of clarity to see a work of "Art" destroyed.

"This is the first song to your mix tape, and it's short just like your temper."

I wonder how many of my notes made it into loving hearts and backpacks and wallets. To stay there as a reminder. Like a five-year-old collecting shells on the beach.

And I wonder how many are torn to pieces and have become part of the dirt of the shining city.

Either is just fine. Now that I think about it.

New York is made alive by passion. By the artists. By the journeymen. The refugee. The fact that somewhere, someone might be walking with my letters underfoot is somewhat poetic, in a sense. Streets paved with passion.

I lost 50 Dollars playing poker online.

I'll lose another 50 more before I learn my lesson.

"I gotta 20 dollar bill, that says noone's ever seen you without makeup. Your always made up."

Patience. Patience.

I called A to blow off steam yesterday. If she doesn't call me back. I'll be a little sad.

"Something golden like the afternoons we used to spend, before you got too cool."

This entry feels self-indulgent. If I was a critic. Well... I'd be critical of it.

- N

Poker

I stood my ground. I said "No." And it felt good.

Test me. Try me. You'll lose.

I feel like Chaos's Advocate. My only bargainning chip is causing confusion and uncertainty.

Everything will change. They dont see it yet. Neither of them.

And all they're really scared of is having to figure it out. Not being without me. And I'm fine with that. They've got all the fuckin' chips. But I've got my one card. It's not even an ace of spades. More like a jack of diamonds. But they won't know till I show them.

"That's your only card. Why would you give it up willingly?"

B is back in town. I missed her. I hope she comes to NYC to visit. After all this time. And friends that have waxed and waned. She has been fairly constant.

Let me paint you a picture. B is simple. She is motherly in nature, pretty, girlish, occasionally thick-headed, opinionated, self-concious and honest. And I've spent a lot of time knowing her on many different levels. And we relate.

"It's 4 a.m. We will stalk again, the princess and her better queen."

Sometimes. You need to see someone who reminds you of who you really are and where you came from. And B does that for me.

I'm gonna start writing notes other than just this blog. I'm ready again. Thanks K.

-N

Rotations

I find myself frustrated with other's indecision. I want answers now. But the kind you can't press. It's a lot like trying to rush building a card house. Only imagine you want to live in your card house for awhile.

And at the same time, I see treasures and prizes life has bestowed around others around me. Most of which, I don't think they deserve.

How did you get there, sir?

"This captain goes down with his ship, All hands on deck stand hip to hip!"

Did you cheat your way to the top? Did you look out for #1? What's your pearl of wisdom today?

It's so damn easy to see the grit and grime of this city. And it's hard to climb up a ladder to anything here when it's covered in slick, greasy, slimy.... people.

"This song is called, It's a Metaphor, Fool!"

Sometimes, all I really want, is to look at the clock and see a glowing 4:00 a.m. To know that even though I need to be up in 3 hours. That it just doesn't matter. Remember the last time you felt like nothing mattered? In the good way, ofcourse.

I cant.

Summers close. I can feel her breathing on my neck, wrapped in deep red silks and beckoning me to come closer. But just for a fling. Till Autumn comes again.

"Sail with me into the setting sun, the battles won but war has just begun."

Somethings are changing. For everyone maybe. I think humans don't fully appreciate or understand just how seasons change us. Summer makes me wanna scream. And Run. And Fight. And love.

Spring... Spring is like the 2 hours before a first date.

I'm showered and layed out my clothes early. Did my hair. And brushed my teeth.
Just need to be patient. Oh. And Charming.

- N

Its Over When Its Over

I'm hesitant to start righting again. Because I feel I've let myself down by not keeping up.

That being said.

I'm starting again. Because I need to. And I'd like to think. Atleast 2 or 3 of you out there sincerely enjoy it.

When does home stop being home? We've all been there. To me, Union Sq. feels like a forsaken lover. I've shunned it all winter. Cramped into this tiny bushwick apartment, distracting myself with feelings of warm and comfort.

The outside worlds a dirty place. I've come to find. And Angry. And Hurtful.

"Calling all cars, We've got another victim. Because my love has become an affliction. Well what did you expect from me?"

And it's much easier to hide from it.

I know these words break as many hearts as they mend. Thats the cliche, right? The bitter sweet symphony.

"Are you desperate for an answer? I dont have an answer good left in me now."

Do I lose by still needing to write this? I mean. Shit. I love getting this all out. But, should I?

I feel I continue to force myself onward. The plow forth in life. With little time to. Relax? No, thats wrong... To enjoy smiles... Just like the ones you used to get from saturday morning cartoons. That careless bliss.

I found a moment of it this morning, in an "Arnold Palmer" walking to work. Afterwards, arriving, it was something akin to returning to the real world with a sunburn after summering on beaches in costa rica.

Well, out here. Its hard to come by. But you, Friends(?), give me some. Make it feel okay to be wrong. Be bad at something. Not need to be perfect.

So Thanks.

You kinda mean the world. So I won't short you. I'm back.

- N

Resolutions and Judges

I thought I was past writing. That I didn't need it anymore. Much like an antibiotic that you disregard after your first symptoms leave you.




I knew before now, or I felt atleast, that I missed this. But I worried.




I worried what I meant that I had neglected it. I worried (now, this sounds dumb.) what you would think of me. All maybe two of you that read this. I worried about being judged.

"Sleep with all your lights on. You're not so happy. You're not secure."

I'm sorry if you were diligent. And looked back regularly to see what was on my mind. Because I should've been writing.

So now I sit here. Things I've felt now having crept back to my head. Having an undiffusable frown and a weight on my shoulders. And to be... Well, stereotypical. I am listening to Dashboard Confessional on Vinyl.



Maybe sometimes, you need to feel sad. And alone. And without a cause. To remind you of what you really believe in. Be it changing lives in little ways everyday or fighting a war that seems worth waging.



I cleaned my apartment today. I tossed old things and cleaned away dust. In the literal sense. But in the metaphorical one too.



I guess you just can't be something you're not. I'm a lonely boy when I play homebody. And I admire every shameless hipster seeking kin in dingy local brooklyn bars. They atleast know what they are. And who they are.



My co-worker was fired today. He was combative and sensative. He tried hard. But he fought all the battles not worth fighting. I hope he finds his way.

"College nights. Troubled crowds."

I've lost my way. And I hope I can find it back. 3 months ago, I hated where I was, and who. But atleast I was sure.

The site never got up. Its something I don't like to think about.