Lonely in an Ocean of People

The only thing that seems to come up in conversations nowadays is "where". "Where are you from? Which neighborhood do you live in? Are you looking to move elsewhere? Are you planning any vacations? Where at?" That last one has become more rare during quarantine, nobody is leaving the US right now. Nobody wants us. Ironic after all of those years where we didn't allow others to come here. Maybe it's karma, or maybe it's just the universe showing that it has a sense of humor. So now you just hear the first three things. Location, location, location. That's all there ever seems to be. And it's all I ever seem to ask. I'm a bit of a runner in a sense. Not that I do any sort of physical exercise. But rather I am constantly racing whoever I'm talking to towards the inevitable question of where the hell might they find themselves at a particular point in time. Past you, current you, and future you. Don't think that I'm concerned about how you have grown as a person or what issues drive your soul or even what your interests may be. Well, maybe we can get there once I know your hometown and your current neighborhood and where you are going to be in 2025. Maybe we can chat then about something real. But before that point, I will be hyper-focused on location. I've been socialized well.

I'd love to talk about this topic with my friends and my neighbors. Hell, I would settle for the deli guy at the grocery store down the street. But I guess that's too much to ask for in a city like this. NYC, city of dreams. That's how it was sold to me. And I think a lot of people still view it that way. If I were offered the opportunity to re-brand, I might go for something more like "NYC, city of casual acquaintances that never go beyond the surface level". Not much of a ring to it. Maybe they are better off not hiring me. But the point still stands - this place is a bastion for people that like to talk about the same old shit all the time. It's like being surrounded by a bunch of NPC's in a videogame, a bunch of programmed robots. It's a lonely feeling. 

Daytime. A thousands faces a day pass me. Some are kind, most are not. Everybody has something that they are dealing with. I've tried every facial expression in my arsenal. Anything to get a smile and maybe some conversation out of somebody. But that has so far been a failed experiment. Everybody thinks that living in the city as an adult is like Seinfeld or Friends. Too many friendships to keep track of. Running into people all the time that you've interacted with before. Maybe this is an old-fashioned notion now. Maybe we are no longer a culture of openness and welcoming. You should also be questioning by now if I'm just not the type of person that people like to be around. It's a valid question, but I'm quite offended by it, so let's move on.

Evening. Walking back to my studio apartment bears no new faces of love. A part of me thinks that today might be the day I find a friend on the sidewalk. A random encounter. We both bend down to pick up a five dollar bill and offer it to each other over and over until we just give it to a kid nearby. Our friendship blossoms and a year later we are best buds singing drinking songs at the local bar together. We reminisce on that day we met in the street, arguing over who gets the money. I make sure to stay alert, so I can soak in every moment. I want to be able to re-tell the story well. I'm getting excited thinking about this future friend. Gender doesn't matter, I just want somebody to call a friend. Somebody who appreciates me as I appreciate them. Making the days of this life go by in a more meaningful way. Today does not seem to be that day. I arrive back home with not so much as a glance in my direction. Maybe I need to get some nicer clothes.

Midnight. Thrilled voices outside my window, rising up from the street and echoing off of the swaying high-rises above. Creating a cacophony of voices up above, as if the real party is in the clouds. Like the one down on the streets is just an imperfect impersonation. It doesn't seem that way to my socially-deprived ears though. To me, it sounds like beautiful memories being formed, funny conversations being had and inside jokes being created. Maybe they are talking about the strange person leaning against the screen window up above, seemingly trying to absorb their experiences through osmosis. Maybe I'm projecting. It's just such a stark contrast between the two. A dark apartment with the TV on at a low volume and an unfinished beer on a poor excuse for a coffee table. Versus a night out with beautiful people dancing to spectacular live music, experiencing these amazing moments of belonging and camaraderie. 

A pigeon flies to a spot near my window. His eyes seem to mock me as if to say "well if you want to be down there so much, just go!"

The problem may originate in the fact that I'm from the suburbs. That could have created a person that needs a certain amount of community at all times. And potentially a person that doesn't know how to create that community because it was handed to them. They were born with it. And then that person moves to the city. A one bedroom apartment in a building where nobody wants anything to do with each other. Which might just mean that I have to get out of this place. Where do I think I'm headed next? Maybe somewhere near a beach, if I can afford it. Or maybe I'm just due for a vacation, it's hard to say. Can't wait for quarantine to be over!