Back in Bruges
Hello my friends and welcome, I see we've ventured into our second blog, which will have a little less of the intro, or pretext, and we'll get to what's actually going on in my life, and my current thoughts about it. Being in Ohio has been a silent whirlwind of emotions, as if the river has softly brushed something on the shore several miles from when it initially entered. My past is here, my whole entire younger life. I never moved for eighteen years, then I moved away for four and a half, and now I sit here in my childhood room trying to figure out what washed to shore. It's unreasonable that this sort of object, or toy, or... sock?
- What even is it, it's indescribable, and through many years it's been consumed in it's travels. You know, I genuinely could have some of my best people on this case. I could bring in experts to sit down in a lab, and through a glass shield, and a microscope we just might be able to come to the conclusion. But god, that sounds like a bit overkill doesn't it? What is this object really to me? Why do I want to know what it is so much? Am I expecting some sort of message? Some sign? Some object that offers me a form of coherency into my incoherent mind and emotions? Yet, ok, what if I do figure out whatever this object is, right? I find out some sort of fact about it, a sock, maybe a toy that I lost in the river - you know I actually did lose a Goku action figure in a lake once, maybe it's Goku from Dragonball Z. But what is that going to give me? If I found some form of concrete understanding of the object in hand what then? I believe that's the question. One thing I've been learning recently is that in many cases there are going to be answers to equations, and other times their will simply be an x in/at the end of an equation and you simply don't have the mathematical capabilities of solving for that retched x. If you do, then what is it that you've gained? If you're solving an equation just to solve it, you're going to be at a loss once you solve it, because, sadly, my friend, there are an infinite set of equations waiting for you, with your name on it. "There are things people are better off not knowing" a theme which is explored a lot by Haruki Murakami. Unanswerable questions. Questions that you want so bad to find out, but at the end, you cannot. I've had many examples of this in life, and my emotional state in Ohio is one of them. It's neither good nor bad. It is. But, something still creeps in there and offers scary things, or at least I think they're scary. Like a fly that's buzzing around in my face. It's not causing harm, but it really is quite a nuisance. I feel like I'm already getting a little tired from all the swatting at air I'm doing.
Ohio, and it's famed corn fields, similar to Kansas in that respect. Many people from NYC know it to be a corn state, and little to no hills. Just flat land for a long long while. If you have to travel through Ohio, stop just before it, get some rest. That way you have the fresh morning and the early stages of caffeine use to stay awake while you drive through it. You'll find something to set your mind on when you've gained some distance from it. Alright, I'm not usually one to be so negative, or... real, let's be honest with myself. I'm just being more real, to my own thoughts about my home, it is as I think it, unless convinced otherwise.
HOWEVER! Someone I deeply respect in my life taught and instigated silver linings, and I can I name a few. Ohio is so incredibly quiet. After living in NYC for four years, I sometimes will come home to Ohio and tears will fall from my eyes because I hear nothing. No honking horns, no ambulance for a long while, no trash trucks at all times of the day and night. I do hear birds, singing such a happy little song, hopping from branch to branch. They must have had a nice cup of coffee in the morning and must really love their job to dance and sing like that all the time. I got regulars at the tree in the front of my home too, a bright red cardinal and a blue jay. I love watching them play in the trees. The quiet offers this genuine escape for myself, or I should say, the chance to escape within myself. My meditation is actually far more difficult, not in a bad way though, I mean in a way that I feel as if I'm peeking around dark little alleys I've never looked down. Oh my god and it's so scary too, that's why sometimes I'll avoid that, but, see, I know that I'm avoiding it. It's exciting knowing that there's something that's a challenge for me in that respect, and silence has offered that to me. Some of NYC's noisescape placed a carpet over some of these forgotten trapdoors.
Ohio is also home to old friends. I get to see what's going on in their life, and not only that, but they seem genuinely excited and interested in what's going on in mine. I love that I can come back to Ohio and instantly have a strong support system, I've recently chatted with some people who were instrumental in my path to getting into college, and in my artistic development, and the conversations that I had were inspirations in and of themselves. I haven't heard anyone talk about me in the light that they see me in for a really long time, and it's funny because in NYC I feel that you might forget that people like that are rooting for you. Their always in your corner, and just want to see good in your life. So, my thanks. I take that, and I walk away with a new understanding of myself. To be honest. In Ohio. I think I'm relearning how to love myself. Though I do love myself, I'm realizing now that there's more to it. I think I'm peeking at some of those darker alleys for a reason, because Ohio - oh that funny old country bumpkin fool - want's me to love EVERY part of me. All the parts of myself that I've cast a shadow on, all the parts of my childhood that I stepped away from. The place itself. I think something is opening. It's a me shaped keyhole, and there are still many holes for me to walk through. I will always wonder what is beyond this door, but I guess some things are better off not knowing. Till our next meeting.