I've been meaning to write this for a while. I kept having thoughts that I wanted to write in a wattpad but I just wasn't getting around to it. I suppose we have a lot to catch up on.
One thing I've been thinking a lot about is my hometown. I love my hometown in the way you love your cousin. I love my home state in the way you'd love your mother. I love my country in the way you'd love your uncle.
On the 3rd of July my father had driven us to this field where his friend was setting off $40,000 worth of fireworks. It was very redneck in an almost endearing way. I say almost because you can't help but be offput by people proudly declaring their presidential candidate is a felon, or drunkenly slamming their miller lite on the table in front of you saying, "I called dibs on this". It's endearing because the band playing slightly too loud has a guy playing banjo and the thrown together food stand is selling clams even though you live in a land locked state. Yes, by the way, I did eat them.
The event itself was not much to talk about. We were sitting too close to the fireworks. I mean like 100 feet away from where they were being set off. They were blindingly bright and so loud I had to cover my ears. Fireworks blah blah blah. I don't care for them too much. What I wanted to write about is the drive home.
It was fairly dark and the air smelled like it always does on Pennsylvania summer nights. A mix of smoke and pine that could never be replicated. My youngest sister had instantly fallen asleep the second her head touched my lap. I had my arm wrapped around her and was gazing out the window. I had realized why it was all so familiar. A mere 3 years ago me and G*** would drive this way almost every night. This same route at around the same time, just a different season. I noted that the billboards were exactly the same. Pennsylvania lottery and some random pest control company. I was looking out the window when my dad pointed out the police station. "That's where I went to alternative school when they kicked me out of high school. I haven't driven this way in so long. Ironic they turned it into a police station. I used to go down this road everyday." It made me feel an overwhelming emotion I couldn't quite describe. It's funny growing up in the same town your parents did. My mom lived in Philly for most of her life but my dad has always lived in my hometown. It's so odd to think he traversed the same roads I did. We went to the same high school. We perused the same corner stores. We've walked the same backroad trails. We've sat on the same benches. I've been thinking a lot about how I am now older than both my parents were when I was born. They really were just kids.
On the 5th of July, I went to K**'s house for a little get together. I drank a single beer and got so drunk in the pool I was paranoid I was killing the vibe so I got out and ate a slice of pizza while dripping wet. Me, W and L were the only people sleeping over so once everyone left we went to Wawa. Ben how dearly I wish you could experience Wawa in the way you should. Late at night, desperately needing a snack, still slightly damp from the pool, freezing cold from the air conditioning, holding one too many things, waiting for your hoagie. One day you might. Once we got back to K's house, I prepared for us to smoke. I don't think talking about drinking or doing drugs will ever stop being cringe. Anyway. Me and K were the only people to smoke so it was nice just talking and smoking while the other 2 were in the pool. I forget why I brought this story up. I guess I just wanted to remember it.
I've been smoking probably way too much to be honest. I would say every single night. I'm not worried about it. I'm 20 years old with a shitty job on summer break, do you expect any different? The other night I smoked before bed and got insanely triggered out of no where. It was honestly kind of freaky. It vividly felt like I was in my trauma again. I could feel it exactly. I kept getting up to drink water but every time I closed my eyes I could see it clear as day. It wasn't that bad, but I couldn't shake it. Eventually I just fell asleep.
I've been thinking about living in Brooklyn a lot recently too. I think I'd be a horrible roommate. I am super messy, I sleep all day, I smoke too much and am extremely annoying when I'm high, I'm on my phone too much, and more stuff. I probably would hate living in the city. Actually, I'd definitely hate it. I'd do it for you though. I believe it's out destiny to live in a shitty apartment and smoke weed and drink cheap beer and watch YouTube or foreign softcore porn movies. I guess that's just Brooklyn. I know that's our borough but let's live in New Jersey or something. It actually doesn't matter. I'll live this out anywhere.
"Kathy, I'm lost", I said, though I knew she was sleeping
I'm empty and aching and I don't know why
Counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike
They've all come to look for America
