Something about this town, and in fact, all of Southern California, chafes against me a little bit. Like sitting in traffic, or listening to the freeway out your window when you want to sleep, or even sitting in the shade when its still too hot out. Irritating. The channel islands are not like this. Central California is not like this, but in SoCal the corporation (I believe) sticks its hand out and tries to pull your wallet out of your pocket.
Its very impersonal, and very hard to do much for free, and you have to drive everywhere.
I don't like driving anymore. I don't even like cars much. The rules, the traffic, the people in boxes where you can't wave to them and smile and even shout over the wind to see where they are from or going. Too many of them.
Consequently, I am getting lonely. I bet I'll cure that when I go out to the islands again, but in the city I am alone. Even among the vagabonds who anchor out in Santa Barbara, drinking and smoking pot (I am not, but they are) I am alone. I can't be a part of their crowd, and I'm not a part of the rich tourist crowd or of any crowd here.
I see people walking around hand in hand and kissing, and I am alone. It doesn't bother me too much, but I don't like feeling sorry for myself because I've chosen this life, and its awesome. But still, I am one of the grains who has fallen through the cracks of America.
3 comments:
http://blogs.creativeloafing.com/freshloaf/files/2008/12/shut-up-hippy.jpg
Everybody's lonely, even the people holding hands and kissing.
I don't think everyone is lonely. I think only the people who make money, things and egos their main focus are lonely. As I'm growing older I'm realizing that what matters most to me is loving my best friend, loving that person next to me and loving myself as well - turning off the TV and denying the media of my ears so I don't have to listen to whose hurting who and choosing rather to listen to the voice or voices of those who matter most in my life, or the laughter of a child, or feeling the ocean breeze tangle its fingers through my hair, or the taste of salt on my lips, or watching stars appear one by one as they arrive in the evening sky. Seems to me the economy is not failing on the ocean, in the wind, in the late nights under the stars, in true love or anything real, or anything beautiful whether that be a person or a place, or a single moment where you find bliss.
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