I’ve been hauling around a pretty big basket of lemons for the past week or so. It was heavy enough to pull me to a struggling crawl when handed to me. Though it seems that through the struggle, I’ve misplaced a few of these lemons — some I’ve whipped at the wall, and others I’ve let fall to the floor unnoticed.
I’m not quite ready to open a lemonade stand at the end of 5th Avenue. The last few months showed me euphoric peaks I had never reached before — the ascent to which I sucked in every bit of thin air I could. I was high in every sense of the word. Falling from this altitude has been a fully volatile experience, but not completely untameable. A substantive existence has eased the descent.
I know mostly what works for me, and how I prefer to go about parading around in this city. There are moments of discouragement that pull you toward being in an infintely bitter pessimism about the way people fit into your life, but I’ve refused that path — I’ve seen it, and it’s not for me. Ultimately, I’m an optimist, and have found this keeps my world spinning in the right direction.
At present, I don’t understand where this is all supposed to take me, but I do know that I wouldn’t change how it all came crashing in. For now, my blueprint is to take it all as it comes. Just, you know… be open… get back to basics.