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Do I Dare Disturb The Universe?

December 1, 2012

I don’t think I’m better than anyone. At least, I try never to make it a conscious thought. I am guilty, so guilty, of hearing of misfortune and attributing it to the moral, physical, and spiritual failures of the people I know. An immediate, malicious thought of you brought this on yourself. But I don’t mean it, not really. It’s a way of keeping the danger far away. A way of telling myself I will be okay because I never take chances, make great leaps. If I stay in this corner, I will be unhappy. But I will not bring failure down on myself.

It’s a way of keeping past failures at bay. Of assuaging. I fucked up, that’s why things aren’t working. It’s my fault. Sometimes admitting your guilt is still a way of staving off enlightenment, evolution. You can admit to being wrong, shrug your shoulders, never examine why or how. You don’t force yourself to be better by admitting you weren’t. Admittance is not acceptance.

I don’t think I’m better than New York. I don’t think I’m better than most of the people who’ve come into my life. Often, I think I’m not good enough. This is a feeling that everyone has. This is a feeling that almost no one ever conquers.

I want to leave this city because I can’t make a life work here, now. I need to leave friendships because I cannot rise to the occasion and make them work. I’ve left a lot of people behind and I’m not happy about that. But I don’t think I’d be sorry to leave the city behind.

I’m not going to become the person I wanted to be as quickly or as easily as I’d hoped. Things are not working out. I’ve isolated myself in this city, through my own mistakes (and, sometimes, others’), but that doesn’t mean forever.

I feel like I’m running out of time. I’m not.

There’s no such thing as a clean slate. Debts remain. You can’t start over again. But you can change directions. You can speed up or slow down or stop.

I am choosing to do any and all of those things for awhile.

I’m probably leaving New York for awhile. It seems unreal to even write the words. After convincing myself, for so long, that I needed to leave but couldn’t….the idea of actually doing so seems like a tease. Sometimes things need to get even more confusing before they make sense.

I went somewhere for awhile and things started to settle in my brain. They say when you meet the person you’re going to be with forever, when you meet the love of your life…you just know. I haven’t met someone, but I think there’s a space, a place in this world where I need to be for awhile. So I’m going to go there. I knew. Even as I got on the bus and started my routine here again, I knew. I’d broken New York’s death grip on me. Being away gave me the freedom to see that I’m not trapped.

So it’s time to go.

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