and tears wellin’
wi-fi signal strong
but searching for connection
“We’re more skeptical and less trusting, marred by our past and our growing knowledge of how the world will chew us up and spit us out without a thought. And so we just don’t “fall” anymore. We become comfortable. But I generally don’t do comfortable, in any sense of the word. So I’m on my island, alone. And that isn’t to say that I’m right and other people are wrong. I just wish we had more of that “fuck it” mentality and were less scared of the fall. I enjoy it.”
I rearranged my apartment this week in a burst of spring cleaning initiative and my general unease with stagnation. I’ve lived in this apartment for 10 months, but my mind believes it to be longer. I’m a nomad at heart.
I knew when I began shifting furniture that I wanted to invite more creativity into the space. After all, my writing place was in the kitchen. I have four rooms in my apartment: the bedroom, the bathroom, the living room, and the kitchen, with a small dining space attached.
The small dining space was my writing space. It was faced toward the wall, artificial light pouring down on me, and a mound of dirty dishes in the background. It was a muse black hole, but it’s where I was getting my writing done.
So where was I going to move my writing space? I wanted to see nature, so I knew it should be at one of my windows. I had four eligible windows in my space. One overlooks my apartments parking space, and two others face the parking lot of the complex next door. Facing the busy street it was then.
At first, I loved it. It was the window with the best light, the sun doesn’t set on this side of the building, which meant I won’t be blinded by it. But as my view expanded, The cars became a distraction. As I said, it’s a fairly busy street. And it’s a direct route to the busiest bar area in the city, so even at night, there are constantly cars going back and forth below my perch.
This surely couldn’t work out. I couldn’t focus on my writing with all the traffic constantly pulling my attention away. But my view expanded one more time. To just beyond the window sill with the perfect lighting, beyond the street and sidewalks below with the bustling vehicles. In that picture above, if you look past the black metal fence and the trees, is the cemetery.
When I first moved to this apartment, the idea of living across from a cemetery didn’t bother me. Cemeteries have never been the place of spooky lore and undead for me, so I was content. However, I didn’t know that it would inspire me so much. And reawaken my muse.
The thing that helped spark that rebirth was the constant reminder of the inevitable: death. It’s coming for everyone, and we have to make the most of our opportunities. We can’t wait to make moves because someday, there won’t be any moves to make.
I want to start that novel, that podcast and take care of myself now. Regret is poison, but you don’t experience it until it’s too late. Make sure it isn’t too late.
We landed in Denver
You were headed back home
I was doing the same
The three-hour flight disappeared
We lucked into three seats
One splitting us
You took the window
You liked to watch the sunset
We spoke like old flames
Rehashing beautiful memories
And lamenting love lost
Despite having just met
When we landed, we walked together
Barely noticing our path forward
Luggage doing little to slow us
We reached your gate
Los Angeles was calling
And I had to reroute myself
We hugged and started to part
I made a joke about seeing you later
You laughed and boarded your plane
I looked at my ticket
My flight left ten minutes ago
And I never got your number
You know it when you find it
The aroma rushes into your nose
The beans aren’t burnt, fragrant
The parking lot was not full or empty
People know good coffee
But it can’t be full
A full coffee shop contains you
You might as well have stayed at home
There are staples, people you see everywhere
The older man in the corner reading the newspaper
The young entrepreneur working on an idea
The writer, with space to let their mind roam,
Creating next to the window
A small group of twenty-year-olds
Catching up on college or relationships
So what ruins this image of perfection?
The boisterous businessman on his phone
The group of people loudly laughing at nothing
Or too many of the regulars
Cramming in because it’s “their spot”
Slowly boxing everyone in
So, when you find it
The perfect place to escape
Hold on to it
Cherish it like the gem it is
It inevitably won’t last
Until then, learn about it
Find the ebbs and flows
Find those perfect hideaways
Communicate with it in a way you haven’t before
Because when it comes to an end
Whether it’s amicable or torrid
You’ll be on your own again
Homeless, you’ll search
Looking for the next, perfect match
You’ll know it when you find it