So after New York I came back to Sarasota for another semester of college.
Tonight I went out to a bar. It is a Sunday night and I feel that conversation went rather terribly. I'll go ahead and say that this young man was a hippy, in that I understand the word to mean ideologically unsound. He was monopolizing...everything about the conversation, and we had little to work with because of it. Being not an isolated occurrence, this seems emblematic of time spent here in Sarasota. The pinnacle for a ringing graduate is a fucking career at some spot that makes sentimental cards for market, or some other shit. It's a bastard.
I moved into a single. It's pretty marvelous- now I can be miserable alone and work into the depth of night. When I go out, either I lack social skills ( I don't feel so, but who am I to say), or am disappointed by my inquiries.
There's an optimism of being in an unfamiliar place. 'Perhaps here, there is sincerity rather than vanity. Perhaps the bug has been staved off and honesty prevails.' But, and it's not like even the pill has been swallowed so much as it is in the embarrassing process of being swallowed, in place of conversation comes scripted verbalism which rhymes with profit. No consideration, only personalities. And for a time when you don't speak the language, a story can be maintained that these are of a pure type, these primitives. (However you may choose to construe).
But lo as the language becomes clear does the evil follow. Greed etc.
And I've been here more than else in my life.
Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on my soul.
