Afternoon at the Park
Taking a break from New Jersey basement life, the cool, crisp late afternoon air of the adjacent park provides a refreshing breath of change that almost stings my lungs as I inhale. Spending much of my time walking from block to block or riding the train from this stop to the next, I find myself deep in conversation with, yes, myself. I ask myself questions, argue between opposing ideas battling for precedence in my mind and even sort of unconsciously rehearse potential social situations. I am not crazy. Or maybe I am.
Through the girlfriend of a friend that I only recently met through a good friend, I have a job at a new 5 star restaurant opening in Tribeca at the end of this month. I have met with her multiple times and everything could not be going better but the thought of all my eggs being in one basket is absolutely unnerving. I am the leading contender for an internship with VII, whom I believe to be the premiere photojournalism agency in the world but again, I wait in restless anticipation for the next two weeks to reveal the future. In regards to both, I have done all that I can to prepare, follow-up and see that all goes my way according to plan but the reality of me not being in full control irks me to my core. I am a perfectionist and probably even border line obsessive compulsive to a degree, if one of those five minute internet tests is the judge.
It’s amusing how as life would have it, I so often assume this role of like a motivational speaker for my own circle of friends. My past experience shows that I am fearless to encourage others even when I am discouraged. It would tell that I am quick to proclaim the truth despite the falsehood I may be drowning in. If this history writes my conclusion as optimistic and idealistic then so be it. Should it decide adversely and rule me in denial and a hypocrite then, well, it doesn’t matter anyway. You determine for yourself, I am not sure what I think yet but would like to believe that as much as I involuntarily wallow in them, I am beyond such futile reflections anyhow.
Moving to the east coast has had it’s challenges for me and my friends alike. A good friend, Monique, joined Josh and I out here a couple days ago and we are all looking for a place together, a Southern California pocket of sorts in Brooklyn. “Excited” is not the best choice of words, just as “stressed-out” is not the most definitive phrase to describe how we all feel. So many words thus far and I still feel no further along in my personal revelations. Is not the public expression supposed to be therapeutic?
Perhaps it is not in words at all that I will find my peace. In the end, time will tell, time will tell. Through the chaotic roar of my wrestling mind, time will tell. From train to train and over every cobblestone my three dollar Italian leather shoes tread upon, time will tell. From Jersey to the City to back to Jersey and then to the park, I am taking this one moment at a time. One breath, one blink. Here is what I saw at the park yesterday. And by the way, I just ordered some used textbooks and have decided I am going to learn French…
“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” -Reinhold Niebuhr
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