out on his own?
compare 27 sonnets in a morning to 3 websites
to attempting love—;
what is merit, what is society?
the key language topic-buttons aren’t my propriety
when I don’t find the college that ‘feels good’
my flexibility is amassing to merely parched blank pages
Unless I get a promotion or a career upgrade this may be out of reach, at least in CT with people I know.
be more money-conscious.
New Haven is not very affordable.
I definitely need to find a full-time job or succeed spectacularly some other way (e.g. writing), in order to live someplace I’d be happy with.
Mind you, I don’t have huge requirements since I’m now living and paying cheap rent for a brown room in my mother and step-father’s house.
My mother says doing a little cleaning would do marvels for my life, however its hard to believe that after so much neglect there would be a way to crawl out of the hole.
I try to convince myself that if I had a white carpet and liked everything on my bookshelf things would be different, but mostly its been a slog changing things. Things look cleaner when the floor is clear, however its still a brown rug, and if nothing moves in my life I start to feel like I’m just keeping up appearances.
What would be a professional or mature living situation for me? I’m not always sure. More money? Different objects? I have to trust that things will move somehow. I just need to trust that nothing will go so completely wrong that I abandon my furtive and chronically extensive efforts.
What would make a difference? For now I find reassurance in pink sweaters, pink trees, and a few brief comments on the web. What would last? I’m simply not in that place right now.
Ideally I would only move out if money weren’t a problem. Moving from paying rent to parents to paying higher rent for an apartment without family doesn’t seem very reasonable, unless I come to the point where my own agendas cannot be accomodated by playing teenager.
Living with parents there’s really not much incentive to act like an adult, which is one of the reasons I resent it.
Society expects me to own a car, even though the world has become a maze of streets that isn’t fun to look at. Owning a car I’d be obligated to commute to work, wasting precious hours where I might be writing, walking, sleeping, day-dreaming etc. My bike accident a few years ago (without much harm done) brought me into the awareness that I may not belong on the road. Of course the guy that hit me might not either, but as a driver I’d have to be aware of those people, and short of mind-control it would just be a big headache.
My general impression is that it can be pretty depressing living on your own, if you can’t choose the city, or the roommates, or find something decent for what you can afford. I’m in a situation now where I tell myself, its either this or perfection. Right now I don’t have to care, but its not as if I have a choice. It seems scary to me that a better situation requires making the choice to care about it, when I’m not sure I’ll be able to get what I want, as soon as I have standards.