The plaza

[illusionofjoy]

I went out for a walk tonight. I was restless, now I'm just depressed. I opted for taking a swing up the road through Mt. Lebanon's business district (the suburban "downtown," if you will). The air was cool, with a bit of fog hanging above the ground. I walked in silence, the environment completely the opposite of my brief constitutional in South Side last night. I made it to a small plaza I hadn't noticed before, where I sat down, just thinking...

Just thinking...

It gets me every time, just thinking. That little plaza reminded me of one of the two parks I used to go to in the middle of the night in Potsdam, when I didn't have to worry about waking up early for a job the next day. I used to go often on Friday nights because I didn't attend many parties. The ones I did attend were usually held by friends and I would end up getting completely trashed and chain-smoke cloves until I left for the night.

Still, I sat there in that little plaza in the business district of Mt. Lebanon, thinking about the plazas and parks I used to frequent in Potsdam and feeling sad that I would never feel anything as familiar as those parks ever again. I think this is how people get trapped. There are a lot of people from small towns who are born there, grow up there and die there, never having been more than ten miles from where they were born. I have an advantage there: I moved a lot and travelled; I've tasted the fruit of different locals and it made me hungry for more. It's a pity I'm not travelling now. Instead, I've relocated to a place alien to me, despite the fact that I know my way around really well.

I hated Potsdam - I still hate it, with it's lack of culture and opportunities and stupid redneck population just nipping at the village borders. Yet, there I was, sitting in a plaza in my new alien home longing for the familiarity of Potsdam. I hated myself for thinking that way. I knew the truth: anything I had accomplished there was stripped away because I couldn't hold my shit together to play like they wanted me to. You don't get to keep your position as a big fish in a small pond if you're a neurotic mess. I definitely qualify as a neurotic mess.

In some ways, I was feasting before. Now I get kicked in the face, begging for crumbs from the tables of others. How dare you filthy beggars - don't you know who I am!

I'm nobody...not right now, anyhow.

The clock rolled over to midnight. I only realised it because a nearby set of traffic lights changed patterns from their usual green, yellow and red to an alternating set of red and yellow flashing lights. I got up from where I was sitting and began walking home. The fog had grown thicker and the air had grown colder, though not uncomfortably so. Still, the thickness of the fog was alarming. I could see it swirl in the streetlights, like some amorphous beast trying to swallow the world. It looked menacing and I could feel it wrapping around me like a cold, wet blanket. This wasn't natural fog...this was the type of fog that got pumped out of machines for shitty horror movies.

This type of fog existed in Potsdam as well.

Comments

[joi-division.livejournal.com]

I definitely qualify as a neurotic mess.

Oh no you don't- you know I am the neurotic mess in the relationship- you're not allowed to claim that title!

I'm nobody...not right now, anyhow.

For what it's worth, you're a huge somebody to me Seth. I know what you mean by your statement though, for we have talked about this before. All I know is last night I laid awake wishing you were there- and looking forward to when we finally move in together.

I love you- and I wouldn't change that for the world.