As I type this . . .

I'm listening to Polyphonic Spree's "Fragile Army" as I type this (it's on repeat). I thought it would be appropriate if I pasted the lyrics on here as well:

Oh! How we miss - they're so far gone.
Will they move when the valley explodes?
We'll make no mistakes - if they move too late,
Will we wish they never called you home?

Hold the line, please be right
You left them on the floor
Hold the line, caught the strike
You left them on the floor
(oh no, oh no!)
We left them on the floor

Design a black note
You type on your keyboard
You swallow the very words you called your own

You tighten your backup - ooh, you're so psychic!
We all wanna know
Did you marry the witch you've come to know?

You're lying back now; you totally found out
We follow the scary words you learned to grow

So slow and stall now; prepare for a countdown!
We all wanna know
If we marry the ones we love the most!

The ticking, the tocking
The losing - how shocking!
The world wants to know
If we're ready to put you on the floor

It's time for you to lose your excitement
It's time for you to lose your excitement
It's time for you to lose your excitement

We left him on the floor
Oh no, oh no
We left him on the floor
Oh no, oh no
We left him on the floor

As I type this at 5 am, I realize that I have a job interview at 12pm in Midtown . . . but I don't feel like going to it. It's not what you think. It's one of those insurance sales positions . . . I think I'm going to pass. I'm better than that.

As I type this, I finished reading Lynyrd Skynard's Wikipedia's entry, sadly, I didn't know the members died in a plane crash the year I was born . . .

As I type this, I'm wondering if the app I sent will do me any good. I better keep a copy of my resume in my pocket at all times.

ok, I'm going to bed.

I feel sorry for anyone who read this expecting something prolific (it might have started like that in my head, but ended up differently).

Where do I go from here?

I've always felt as though I was supposed to come to New York. I'm not sure if I believe in fate or not, but I always felt this is where I'm supposed to be in life. Some may call it fate, others may call it a subconsciously conceived ambition.

I'm at the break room at work one day and this co-worker of mine starts talking about their messed up life. He was spilling out his life, goals, and current hindrances. He kept talking about locations in Brooklyn and asked me a question and I answered:

"I have no idea, I'm from Michigan."

"What are you doing here?"

By the tone of his voice, he seemed more bewildered by my choice to come here rather than an expression of enthusiastic curiosity.

To the world, New York is everything. Whether people want to admit it or not, New York symbolizes so much to so many people that the mere mention of the city to outsiders immediately brings to mind, "THE CITY," The International Capital of the World. The place where everyone is no one and people that are "someone" are nothing amongst everyone else. The American Dream. I carefully recollected my thoughts and the only thing I could was:

"I haven't figured that out yet . . . "

I left it at that. Talked some more (off topic) and went about my day in a blank stare. The same blank stare my face has when I look at my computer monitor at 4 am in the morning. The same look I have when I try to ignore the fact that everyone is in a mild panic over the economy. The same look when we all try to forget that America has been in wartime now for far too long. For better or worse, there's been a change.

I'd like to believe 9/11 made people here lose hope and optimism for THEIR city, but I don't know if that's the case. It's a life of uncertainty that continues to follow me and everyone else around me. We have our thoughts, our memories, our past, and it makes us. Is my life so dismal that getting a job straight job working 9-to-5 is all I can aspire for?

I think of the happiest moments in my life and wonder, "Can I go back?" I'm not sure if I would if I could. I'm thankful for what my life is but I don't understand the mechanism that drives me.

I can't go back, that's one thing that I do know for certain.