Fact #1 = I am constantly nostalgic. I believe I miss people and places more than the average person to the point that remembering events in my life usually almost always causes a mixture of both extreme sadness and deep affection. Here is small list of things that have semi-paralyzed me internally because of their associated memories.
- The smell of a wet sweater.
- The 36th Ave subway stop in Astoria.
- A hastily scribbled note rediscovered in my wallet.
- The opening credits to National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation.
I remember a lot of gin and tonics, the wail of the trains as they pummeled through my small city and I remember being both infinitely at ease with my surroundings and profoundly dissatisfied at the same time.
So I moved here to New York. Took the train and read a biography of Allen Ginsberg on the way (which, as I'm typing this, I just now realize is the last time I read anything related the Beat generation. Just a random observation.) Got out at Penn Station and promptly took the wrong train trying to get to Inwood.
It's weird how certain memories stay with you and seem so vivid that you could believe that they happened just yesterday. That when you relive them in your mind that you almost somehow that if you
(to be continued)