Ever since moving to Boston from Reading, PA in 2006, I have been an ooey-gooey, sofy, mushy wad of emotions. My body is but a mold for the fruit-studded wiggly feelings inside. And those of you who know me, and know that I find things with the texture of Jell-O repellent (sorry, Bill Cosby), will understand that this leaves me uncomfortable. I'm happy I'm more in touch with my feelings, but COME ON.
Anyway, I'm pretty sure that this happened because I know where my life was headed, staying where I was (hint: it was headed towards misery and more lonliness). I was able to change my path and move somewhere completely different - and when I got here I was surrounded by art, culture, drinking, music, love, tolerance, and acceptance. I have never been able to be my weird self so much as here. And the thing is: people like me for it. At least, they claim to.
In any case, with the economy, and the political landscape, my age, and where I am, I'm in a unique space in that I can see how lucky we all are - we struggle, but not like some people do. I never get up in the morning afraid for my life, or wondering if I'll be able to eat. I have a job that makes me feel good about going to work and people who want to spend time with me and talk and eat and make plans. I don't have many worries about safety, shelter, or other lower-order needs.
There's still something missing, though. I think that it's in our nature to be not-completely-satisfied. "Itchy" about things. After all, how could we ever have invented things if we didn't identify a need for something better? Technology, development, advancement: they all stem from someone knowing that things could be better, faster, stronger. I feel that now. I hope to have things a little more figured out by the end of 2009.
Happy New Year, all.