day37 - getting lost on purpose
dear luci,
the people already got an entry earlier today-- not that they've realised yet— so this one will likely be shorter than usual.
vladimir illyich lenin, a goatee pioneer and prominent russian man once said:
"There are decades where nothing happens; and there are weeks where decades happen."
although vlad was writing about the inconsistent chronology of political and economic change in the world, i find the statement resonant even insofar as it may relate to a single life. unfortunately i am firmly in the clutches of the "decades where nothing happens". at the ripe old age of 23, I am impatient, I feel I am running out of time because my life isn't moving forward Fast Enough.
i am ostensibly standing at the precipice of adult life (for me, as it departs from study) and shouting "why haven't I got it all figured out?!". it is stupid to feel that way, but my rationalising does little to ease the ticking clock in my imagination. it doesn't stop the self-comparison, something I know to be wholly unhelpful, even actively toxic. it doesn't rid me of the desire to Tick The Boxes I have been told to tick since I was a child. I'm not as docile and obedient as I'm making myself sound, but I still feel like there's something wrong with me, even though I know there isn't.
the problem is not me, the problem is that this time in my life and many of my friends is an awkward, messy time period. between the ages of 18-22, you're allowed, even occasionally encouraged to be a dumb, messy kid. once you age out of that bracket, you can still get away with being a fuckup, but people start to look at you funny, disdainfully, the longer you spend without figuring It out. all my friends are studying or working full time. the others have even less of a clue than me. and as I approach the reality of full time work (still waiting on the paperwork), I am excited, but I feel sad, too. this will only isolate me further from the people I already don't get to see. I'm not ready to be shoehorned into a 9-5 routine that will, probably, rob me of any energy to divert toward Things I Enjoy Outside of Work, much less the self care and introspection that keeps me from straying too far onto a track whose final stop isn't particularly appealing to me.
I'm not ready to say "I better not stay out too late, I have work early tomorrow". I'm not ready to start apologetically justifying my (inevitable) social and emotional unavailability to the people I love. I'm not ready to give up on spontaneity, hijinks, many of the things I tasted for the first time only last year. "But I just got here" I say, a lump in my throat, as everyone around me shrugs on their coats, stepping into the polite choreography of saying goodbyes. "I'm going to walk home", I say, as they find their car keys, "Would anybody like to join me?".
I'm not worried about the safety of it. I just want to indulge in a kind of movement that isn't constantly preoccupied with departure and arrival times. to remind myself that this world was meant to be explored and wandered through, not just traversed as quickly and efficiently as possible. I don't always want to know where I am. I want to find comfort and joy in getting lost on purpose. Just because I have a map at my fingertips at all times, doesn't mean I know the streets around me any better.
so that's okay. I'll walk home alone.
sweet dreams, Luci