frustrated rumblings in my tummy.

i wrote these on 6/3/07, some nyc frustrations coming to a point. ballpoint, to be exact.

(in short):
i guess, if i were being honest with myself, i'd say right now i'm feeling a bit: confused, frustrated, annoyed, pissed off, lonely, aggravated, lost, found, on the bring of discovery.

struggling to make a connection.
thirsty for it.
quite.
p a r c h e d.
----

NY makes you care about things that don't matter, but makes you think you care about the things that do. because we make a difference when we drop loose change in a cup and we make an impression with our hot new shoes. we make a statement wearing our large sunglasses while we sip a fair trade coffe from our reusable mug. we fervently recycle, shop at the greenmarket, and buy from only the chicest (most exclusive) local designers. we support the theatre and are patrons of the non-profits. we buy organic sheets and visit foriegn lands. we have dinner parties, drink until we puke, and go back to bed. we bought our shit on sale. we throw it all away, when we move across the country, in search of a different kind of life.

-----

interesting-- to seem/feel (all of a sudden) lost, a stranger in your own life. perhaps not an entirely new or original way to feel, but nonetheless.

questions.

wanting to feel meaningful and purposeful-- making a difference is relevant. and sometimes in NYC, it is enough to get you stuck and be staisfied with stagnation and minor progress and setbacks. the currents feel strong, but the ebb and flow is weak, so it takes you moments to feel trapped in a vast ocean, but months, years, to actually feel as if you've moved from the shore at all.

i want to touch people with words, thoughts, and actions. with food, feeding, tasting, thoughtfulness. i want to speak in languages and find the spirit of my ancestors, and i want to be needed.

in this moment, i guess i'm wigging out because i feel trapped in a version of my life that isn't so bad, but at the same time, doesn't fulfill what i want out of my life. i hate that it comes down to money, to energy, to oil and coal, to food stamps, and presidents we never wanted, and deaths not worth the cost. why can't we fill our tanks with sunshine and be fulfilled enough with smiles, and warm glances, butterflies in our stomachs? why can't we pay the rent with love and kindness, and buy food with happiness? maybe then they, too, would become commodities, no longer special. we would find more emotional value in a frown, and life would be a different (yet again) shade of grey.