Sheesh. If I had to describe my life in this in between zone I would say nothing good about it, at all. I spend days inside this studio, zipping out sporadically for things like food and maybe a little shower over at my friend’s house every other day or so. It’s put me into a very contemplative state and I realize here, simmering on the outskirts of NYC, separated literally by a tiny coast of land and a river…I am way more alone than I feel comfortable with being. Knowing I am in close proximity to millions of people does nothing to assuage that, because I feel nothing but detachment for all that this place represents to me. People, who by their sheer quantity, do not make up for the lack of quality I find in many of my relationships here. Granted I cannot shift all blame off of myself for certain realities, but I can say that when people needed me, I was there, first in line, holding my hand out in help for what my friends needed. I feel very little of that now, that reciprocal thing you sometimes hope to happen (I think some people call it karma, right?) when you put out that good stuff? It is totally missing the mark over here. And I am kinda a little pissed off about it. But I realize the shortage of goodness emanating from the majority here are due to stress and their own associations. I watched this show about emotions and happiness last night…well, it was a documentary, in fact. It reminded me that the love we have for people and the relationships we foster affect us so much that it’s been scientifically proven that the people who are happy around you, up until the fourth removed (your friend’s friend’s friend is it?) from your relationships have the greatest influence on your own happiness. This knowledge I don’t think could substitute for those who expect one other person could make them happy, because it’s not about them when it comes to what you have–it’s the other people around you, too, who make a difference. Yes, it is also true that it is a choice we make every day, whether or not to be happy, and although I might have started today with a frown, I am laughing at myself now. And for those I know who have been subjected, er, seen the charm and giggling girl that I am (and still am, you jerks!), and who run and hide when she needs a little helping hand, a gesture of friendship even, well, you kinda suck. And that’s just the damn truth.

I do not like sitting here waiting, like I have yet yet yet to earn the ticket away. I have felt like this for years, clearly detached from here, wanting to get the hell out, trying to move here or there when the city stopped suiting me. Dozens of times I have put all of my belongings in boxes, sifted out the baloney, stuck the majority of it in large trash bags I have literally thrown out my window or balcony, depending on where I was. I have the most efficient methods of moving down, and now I am graduating myself to even more organized ways of being. There are, right now, to my left 8/103 gallon bins and several of a smaller size, packed in a very methodical fashion with my belongings over the past 12 years here, and then some. You’d think there’d be less for someone who has moved as much as I have, but I tend to move the trash piles from one location to the next. (Gross, I know, but I am changing this all now.) This time I am purging literally everything I have not need for…papers and books, all asta la pasta. Then when I unpack this stuff, eventually that is, it will be like Christmas, because there will be no hidden secret surprises or junk boxes, just pristine caddies of my stuff, organized according to categories. And I love opening presents so this is extra special. Good thing I got rid of as much as I did back in September when I moved out of my apartment to the farm. I got rid of half of a fully furnished one bedroom apartment, now I just have to pare this down into another half, because this time I am really starting over, fresh, starting new, finally.

Ugh, I really despise moving. I say this a lot, but life is much better when you have a home.