Tuesday, March 20, 2007

this morning, in the minutes before waking up, i was dreaming. i dont remember what i dreamt before i started to wake up, but i remember that as i started to wake up, i was still dreaming. in the brief moments in between beginning to wake up and being fully awake, i thought i was waking up somewhere else. i forgot where i was, and my first thought upon becoming conscious was that i was in my bed in my parents' house. i could feel the sun hitting the side of my face the way it always did coming from my window, and i could see the reflection of it on the polished hardwood floors. i smiled and started to open my eyes. then i became confused. i didnt know where i was, but something didnt sound right. then it all came back at once: new york, college, growing up, living in bushwick, the thesis that im working on. my smile fell. for a brief instant, still not entirely awake and aware, i felt heartbroken. then i work up the rest of the way and resumed my real life. the feeling of heartbreak is just a memory, having been replaced by a dull melancholy, an existential funk.

this has happened so many times since i left home for the first time. its not quite a dream, but im not quite awake, either. its somewhere in between. its like living in a memory.

in that moment that im waking up in my old bed, all of the problems, stresses, and doubts are gone. its saturday morning, and im looking forward to the day. but its not saturday and they arent gone. its monday, thursday, sunday, or even saturday, but not the one that i think it is. and they arent gone, just hiding. its not even a real memory, my life was never that simple. its revisionist history to think that there was a time of innocence before i started to have real problems. its always been something. but that is the feeling of home. comfort, safety, familiarity. i miss it and im not sure if ive ever even felt it. i mean, i know ive felt it, for moments, maybe even periods of time long enough to be aware of it, but there was never a part of my life that was always like that. ive been trying so hard to find it for so long. ive looked in other cities, in music, in other people. and ive touched it in all of those things. there have been moments when i was singing or playing drums, biking around manhattan, or waking up next to someone. but they fade.

when i woke up this morning i just wanted to go home. to my parent's house. i wanted to fall asleep in that bed like i used to, and to wake up knowing that id spend the whole day with people that i cared about. but i cant. even if i go home to visit, the people that made that place feel like home are in connecticut, new york, oregon... they've grown and changed and so have i. sometimes i wonder if i still need them like i used to. or, i wonder if i still need the same thing, but they arent it anymore.