A mild rant and its drawn conclusions

   I'm wishing that I knew exactly why I get as frustrated as I do. With people. With writing. With music. With everything.

   Going to lunch today with a friend and mentor that I haven't seen in a while kind of provided me with some insight as to why I've genuinely hated my old location for the past two years. I realize now more than ever that what I lacked in my old neighborhood was a collective identity. I never felt like I belonged there, like I had anything in common with any of the residents, or that I would ever belong there. Despite my desperate attempts to become part of that community, everything I ever tried in order to help me fit in always backfired and proved detrimental to me. I tried acting beyond immature. I tried acting rebellious. I tried to be everything that I wasn't and it wrecked me.

   The people there, as a whole, treated me differently. It didn't matter what I did, what I pretended I was or wasn't, they knew that I thought apart from them and they acted accordingly. I felt it. I could feel their judgments, their assumptions, and most importantly their refusal to listen and consider that; maybe, I could offer a different perspective.

   I find it ironic more than anything, this idea that, of all places, that neighborhood should have been the one place that I felt comfortable and secure. In actuality, it was the only place I ever felt obligated to shut myself away and pretend I didn’t exist.

   When I saw that there was absolutely no way that I would ever be one in the same with this group of people, I tried a different approach. I felt that I was being attacked all of the time through the harsh and inaccurate conclusions that were being made about me. Arrogance is form of self-defense to me and I used it. If people were going to accuse me of thinking I was smarter than everyone else, why not just take up that challenge? So, I did. I upheld myself as better than all of them. I negated everything that they said, I shot down every single one of their ideas, I played devil’s advocate, and I hated it. I hated having to act arrogant; HATED IT.

   I suppose it’s mostly counter-productive now to complain about it, but sometimes you just need to voice why something was as awful as it was; especially if you've been holding it in for as long as I have. I’m glad it’s over. I feel better living in my new area. I’m close to people that I’ve known for years and feel comfortable around. I get to fall asleep to the sound of a city, rather than the eerie silence I was met with every night in my old house. I feel good here. Or, at least, monumentally better than I did before.