sonicallymelancholic

[sonicallymelancholic]

You’re in pain, and I can feel it across the phone screen.

[sonicallymelancholic]

There are certain parts of your life that you don’t let bleed into your work or let your work bleed all over.

[sonicallymelancholic]

What pulls you closer to me if you can feel me suffering?

[sonicallymelancholic]

Listening to Say Yes by Elliott Smith in the back of an Uber, you can feel the cold settling here in New York.

In a few weeks, I get to see the girl I care about before I leave the country, and I’m about to smoke a cigarette with a close friend.

Ashes fall like snow.

[sonicallymelancholic]

My pain is unique to me, as yours is to you.

[sonicallymelancholic]

[sonicallymelancholic]

Caught myself smiling at old videos. Settled pain.

[sonicallymelancholic]

There’s a lot of change coming my way, and I’m not sure if I’m strong enough to endure it yet. I’m sort of thinking out loud here. Mentally, I feel like I’m pacing back and forth, and I’m that same 20-year-old kid moving out of Texas for the first time.

I remember moving into Novato. I remember driving in for the first time and seeing Nick and his dad doing yard work outside Shirley’s house. I remember sleeping over at Mari’s dorm and walking to my car in the mornings to move it before street cleaning. I remember my old roommate washing my dishes for me because I hadn’t left my room for a couple of days. I remember when we felt that first spark and glimpse of hope—that moment was everything we had fought for all year long.

I’ll keep remembering, and some days these memories will pass me by. As the seasons change, the leaves will stay the same.

[sonicallymelancholic]

Sometimes I wish the earth would just let me go.

[sonicallymelancholic]

I’ve been trying to accept the present.

[sonicallymelancholic]

Today I saw a single flower fall from the sky.

I decided last month that I was going to stop being someone I’m not.

My sleep schedule is a little messed up right now. I’ve been going to bed at 5 a.m. and waking up at 1 p.m. every day. Not good, chronically tired.

Stepped outside today and, for a second, forgot how life could be really, really beautiful.

[sonicallymelancholic]

Life since moving back to New York has been a quiet struggle. I’m not particularly as nostalgic as I used to be, but there are moments where I cross the same intersections where we once laughed and a smile slips through.

I work as a host at a Michelin Star restaurant in Hell’s Kitchen five days a week. I’m pretty sure my manager doesn’t like me, but the pay is decent, and I think that’s just how that sort of thing is supposed to go.

Life isn’t either good or bad; it’s just calm. It feels like what it looks and sounds like right now, and I’m grateful to be this present in it. I feel sound.

Don’t get me wrong, I miss my friends, miss hanging out with a cute girl, and the early romanticism of the city, but as much as I want those things to matter right now, they can’t be, and they’re not.

Life moves on, and I’m learning to move with it.

And yeah, new work next month.

[sonicallymelancholic]

There’s no point in living in nostalgia.

[sonicallymelancholic]

Falling upwards. Nevertheless, still falling.

[sonicallymelancholic]

Standing on opposite sides of the horizon.

[sonicallymelancholic]

Woke up in a panic because I thought I heard your voice.

[sonicallymelancholic]

The art of letting go and being let go of.