Note: an extremely candid and emotional post that is both earnest and vulnerable. Try not make fun of me too much. Okay you can.
I wanted to cry as I drove home from Center City to Havertown tonight. All 9 miles of it. I couldn't though. I wanted to because I'm about to embark on a big decision that I thought would do me good. The truth is my decision to move to Philadelphia in June will still probably do me good. It's just I'm really downsizing and I know moving back home would be so much easier. It's a 15 minute drive to work. Now I will have a nightmarish commute which partly had to do with my urge to cry my eyes out. And I was just coming home (which is half the distance of going to work) on a breezy, holiday evening with zero traffic. This gloom was entirely unexpected. The reality hit me hard as I boxed up a bunch of stuff, took it to my parents, and visited the place in which I will be more or less living extremely lightly. I don't mind living minimally. I look forward to it. I strive to do so. I just hope I can get a hang of things in one piece.
As childish and insecure as this sounds I hope people are nice to me. I hope I make some new friends though as lucky as I already am having a few in the city. I worry that I'm making a lavish mistake and that I'll wind up going broke and having to forfeit independence. Sometimes I make impulsive choices AND I hope this isn't one of them. It's tough making living arrangements. It's a commitment. It's always easier doing these things in your head. At first it's exciting and you think about the fun stuff. I think about all the music I'll see or how I won't have to drive to get my groceries, the new people I might meet, the excitement of always having something going on, the diversity, the history, the culture, the walking, or that there's a barnes and nobles a block away. A repetitive Kevin Bacon commercial is coming mind but this shit is exciting. All of these glaring benefits erase any worry and doubt... at first. Now I can't get out of my head the tumultuous voyage into Newtown Square daily, the gas money, the familiar lonely feeling I felt that awful year and half I spent in art school, everyone running a muck making me feel claustrophobic, missing state parks, leaving behind some friends who say they'll visit but not too much because they hate the city, feeling food illiterate, the feeling that I'm uptight compared to the city natives, everything is expensive, learning how to use mace etc. Also, call me crazy but the 400 murdered people last year don't make too happy either. It terrifies me. I keep reminding myself you're doing something that doesn't entirely make you comfortable. Good. This means you're taking chances. I just have to learn how to let go. It's already happening.
I'd like to expand more on this but I'm feeling sluggish at the moment. Too much barbeque food for me. I plan on extending this post a bit later. I hope everyone's Holiday was spectacular.
Anyway, this song has nothing to do with Philadelphia other than the Diplo aspect. It's been on repeat this weekend.
"California Soul (Diplo / Mad Decent Remix) -Marlena Shaw & Diplo