Today was the part of my New York City trip when I realized that I booked way too long of a visit. I have run out of things to do. Not only that, but I’m continuing to eat out. The lack of exercise is beginning to catch up with me as I occupy my time with mundane activities – most of which involve sitting for extended periods of time.
On a brighter note, I’m feeling much better than yesterday. Considering how down I was, that wasn’t exactly hard to accomplish. Nonetheless, after some much-needed sleep, I was on the right track again. I was also completely passed out while Greg and Michelle left the apartment for work this morning. After lounging and organizing for a bit, I got myself together early enough to have my first meal of the day at Chipotle around noon.
Following an embarrassing pig out, I ventured into the SoHo area. What a fucking waste of time. See? This is when I remind myself that I don’t need a full fucking week in New York City. This town is so fucking – blah. Who needs to visit yet another store? Why do I continue to fall into the trap of consumerism, when I bitch and moan about it in my journals? Shopping is such a waste of my time on this planet. Now, I’m at the point where I feel as though I’m just going through the motions. As if I’m contractually obligated to visit SoHo – or whatever other borough – during each trip to the Big Apple. It’s stupid.
Listen. California has its own set of problems. At least you can go to the beach when you want, though. You know? There’s so little that I truly need in my life, yet I constantly find myself “looking.” The saddest part is that I don’t even know what I’m “looking” for. Looking for a jacket. Looking for a bag. Looking for men. Looking for something that I think is going to turn my life around, when the reality is that it’ll only be a Band-Aid until someone or something – myself included – rips it off, and the search begins anew. It’s depressing.
Having reached my mental capacity and tolerance for battling the holiday shopping crowds, I decided to settle in at another Barnes & Noble and catch up on my writing. I feel like I’m always just catching up. I love writing, but I want to be at a point where there’s no more of the past to focus on. It’s frustrating, but that’s why I end up doing something like schlepping my laptop with me around Manhattan. I’m trying to seize any opportunity to jump ahead. Not to mention, the fact that I simply don’t want to be in this damn city anymore.
Zoning in and expanding on some old notes I had written, I managed to get quite a bit of work done. Naturally, there were a number of distractions along the way. The first one? Tito.
The way people come and go from my life so often never ceases to amaze me. Often times, I won’t hear from someone for months. I’ll assume we are not on the greatest of terms, and accept the radio silence. Out of nowhere, we’ll then end up talking for a long time. To be fair, it’s usually my doing. I often initiate these types of reunions. My short-lived conversation with RX yesterday is a prime example. Although, he didn’t help his case by triggering me with Mariah Carey.
This afternoon’s conversation with Tito began shortly after I posted an Aaliyah article on his Facebook timeline. Tito sort of introduced me to her music. Technically, it was Logan, but Tito and I always used to talk about her work. Anyway, that article resulted in a text message from Tito. From there, we had a quick catch up before he sent a few local restaurant and shopping recommendations. Then, it was over. That was it. How do we solve a problem like Tito? Wait. Scratch that. How do we solve a problem like Kurt? That’s the real dilemma here.
Eventually, my fingers couldn’t type any more. I was hungry – i.e., slightly less full than I was six hours ago – and needed to get the fuck out of Barnes & Noble. By the way, that book store is apparently where every poor person in New York City goes to work. Who knew?
This is going to sound ridiculous, but I’m currently on the hunt for a black faux fur coat at H&M. I’ve been all over the city, and I can’t find the damn thing. Continuing my never-ending search, I stopped at another two store locations before I found myself in Times Square – about to order Shake Shack again. Oy. I talked to nearby guys on Grindr while I smashed an entire fried chicken sandwich with fries and pickles on the side. Double oy. By the time I was on the subway going back to Brooklyn, I had a guy asking me to spend the night at his place. Triple oy. Although tempting, I wasn’t exactly looking – or feeling – my best after a day of both Chipotle and Shake Shack. Tonight was definitely not the night to have either of my ends penetrated.
Back at Greg and Michelle’s place, the three of us caught up quickly before gathering in front of the TV to watch Leah Remini’s glossy lips reveal the secrets of the Church of Scientology. Holy shit. That show was amazing. After everyone went to bed, I stayed up for another three hours so that I could watch every episode I’d missed.
I find things like Scientology and cults absolutely fascinating. Look. I’m not about to become a member of Scientology. But, I’m also not going to lie. A big part of that “ignorance is bliss” lifestyle sounds quite appealing to me. Of course, I know it’s really not. Still, I also feel as though we are tricked into believing a lot of things in our everyday lives. For example, does recycling really matter? Sure, I put paper in a blue bin. But, what happens after the truck takes it away? I definitely feel lied to in many areas of my life.
At the end of the day, I wouldn’t survive as a Scientologist. In addition to already knowing that everything about the “religion” is a lie, I simply don’t care for physical labor. However, if I were slightly naiver about the inside workings of the “church” and was looking to make a “difference” in the world, the whole thing might not sound so bad. After all, doesn’t everyone want to help make the world a better place?
I need to re-work the way I worded this.