With so many new experiences, I find it difficult sometimes to know what to share with my readers.
Sometimes, it’s a moment of weakness, a moment of excitement, or a moment of sorrow. Often, it’s a moment of hilarity.
I guess this is meant to be a moment of confession if that’s alright.
I was so excited to move here. I thought New York City would be the greatest place in the world. And, in many ways, it’s the most amazing city I’ve ever seen. It’s certainly the most interesting place I’ve ever lived.
But I don’t fit in here the way I hoped I would.
I will never care about fashion. I wear mostly black, sometimes dark colors and blue jeans. That makes up the majority of my wardrobe, next to my jean/leather jackets.
I like living that way. I don’t want to be the girl wearing six-inch heels on her way to work.
I don’t care about fancy food, either. To be honest with you, I don’t care much for the “rich” life at all. I can’t fathom why anyone would want to spend hundreds of dollars on a jacket when they could do so much good with that money.
For all of the these reasons, I spend a lot of my time alone, exploring, sometimes in Brooklyn and sometimes in Manhattan. Just last night, I was in Times Square and everything was closed. The surreal feeling of being in Times Square after everything is shut down and there aren’t nearly as many tourists roaming the sidewalks was utterly bizarre. But also liberating. Even the city that never sleeps needs a nap.
I have four classes, a part-time job, and constant homework. This doesn’t include basic chores, laundry, cooking, appointments, and the amount of time it takes to walk everywhere. I’m exhausted. And I’m lonely.
And I’m not sure what to do about it.
These are just some thoughts that I’ve been having. And I needed to write them down somehow. I thought that was important.
Thanks for listening.