Hanging Out

Dear Future self.

"I need you now but I don't know you yet "

-Alexander 23

The trains sped against each other usually high speed and I stood at the edge of the platform, unsure of what I wanted .the dark insurgent tracks offered me transit into a new world, different from this loudly human one. There's that feeling in my stomach again, a soft mixture between nausea and infatuation. its emptiness that surrounds me and bruises my existence, the crowd moving by me like I'm a 404 error - not found, but not by accident. Getting this lost is simple, you just need to keep doing whatever you do, what is expected of you and just like that you are invisible .nobody sees you anymore .its like you never existed or never spoke. People are so consumed by the paramnesia of their retractable lives you're just someone they used to know in five seconds flat.

There's no need to remove yourself or your digital footprint, they just forget you're still breathing, still sharing the earth

The 404 club is the easiest to join and there's no need to buy a log cabin in the hills, you can do it in metro New York, London or Sydney. In fact, the busier the better; be anonymous, fall off the map like golden leaves in the autumn. at least they look aesthetic, I happen to be reminded everyday that im just a silhouette among the many moving shadows that appear on these walls every day.

Even though I'm walking it feels more like the sidewalk is a conveyor belt; like I'm a suitcase rolling around with the baggage of other strangers, all of us of different colors, sizes, and those who are identic of mine but there is no chance to stop and steal a look, we keep rolling rapidly and apparently at random stakes.

The holy city of new york, intimidating every soul with its engines and its crowds, long-drawn monsters of modern art by professionals and experts. We all know there are ways to be professionally nice and ways to be professionally unpleasant. surprisingly, its a master at both, sometimes I think it competes with fate to be the best rollercoaster, a sudden plunge into highs and lows, in the most unexpected yet anticipated moments.

what do I get to reflect from all the memories I have in these streets? they follow young lovers like stray ghosts, all the way to a drunk fight in their apartment.

what do I say to them when they violently knock my doors at midnight, when it's heavily raining? that I am not ready to reconcile and bring them back to me?

This time last year I was falling in love for the first time, enthusiastic, unaware, and naive. Now every morning is spent doing the necessary preparation on autopilot while my brain prepares for every possible scenario it can, finding solutions to problems that don't yet exist - just in case.

I can't think of a time any of it has paid off, it's more a function of my addiction to you, replaying every memory, every conversation, creating possible future ones, where you say you want me back and I refuse. I tell you all the things that hurt me and I stand by it. a confrontation where I stand by the pain instead of throwing it away as lies in the pursuit of your validation.

At least I know that much. By the time I'm in the stairwell of your house I "know" how I'm dealing with your face and your eyes, as they look into mine; by the time I'm done with saying goodbye I "know" how I'm dealing with letting you go and showing you what you lost.

In reality, As I walk by your building through the darkening street, I spot your car and now I know none of it, not a damn thing, and the days move on, and never a single part of me is ready.

How do I explain to my demons how much I need your voice? all the weirdest wildest dreams that we saw are dying. they sit with me, abandoned and in the after-hours. I fended all the wolves that night when we were running wild in the woods and I watched you, sprinting over the grass, like an unbounded angel under the cool colorless moonlight.

Dear future self, I wonder what it's like to be you. I wonder what it's like to swim out of her embrace and walk away, to not think about her just for a day. I hope that you are stronger, I know that you are better . I believe that you became something that shuts their mouths forever and you pull up to your house in a Cadillac . are you a hustler now? how many passion projects do you have? did our dreams come true, is it over now?

Dear future self, I need you to come and hold me down and tell me that everything is going to be okay and that its okay to be sad, to be upset, to be bruised. I need to see you, in all your greatness and your bravery standing at my doorstep. I want to see what you became .how can you miss someone you've never met. I need you now but I don't know you yet.

I'll leave the part of being the strong one to you, and I hope you save me someday or kill me, It doesn't matter, I trust you for doing the right thing. I'm going now to Beachwood cafe, I texted her last night to meet me there. I've put on our favorite long brown coat and denim jeans, I'm sporting our favorite sunglasses, we always give her the best of us, just so we can spite them later.

Moments later she will be sitting in front of me, wrapping her fingers around a steaming cup of hot chocolate, and she will smile and just like that half my heart is auctioned to different parts of her world and me? us? I don't know, ill never tell her that sometimes when I look at her, I don't feel the same way anymore, that somedays im not sure if I want to say forever but anything is better than those cold nights in the subway, anything.

she told me she loves me and i rarely say it back, because I know I need it, to be loved without being expected to love back. so many times I crashed and burned from my own nothingness when those I love forgot me and blurred the lines, cut me off as split ends, met my face like strangers. how many times I was insulted, embarrassed, for who I am and what I stand for . my eyes, my hair, my lips, does anyone write about them . after so many scars I have for not loving myself, it feels good when you do. I think i deserve it and i let it stay on top of my skin a little longer so that I can keep the feeling forever. I know you have scars too, scars that need my love and I give them what I can and I know they don't deserve me. we are mismatched, untracked on the wrong platform, on the wrong time yet we couldn't be more connected, more meant to be.

perhaps we are a form of a story , just not the ideal type. perhaps you are my lovely Icarus, flying towards me, intelligent eyes searching for the truth and as you come closer, I burn. I burn with all my power because I'm happy. I was all alone; the star that caught fire in space has a whole galaxy revolve around it but has no-one to love, no one to talk to, no one to outshine.here you come into my arms , and I ornament myself with the brightest flames.

am I beautiful? tell me how steadily I shine when everyone complains of the heat, show them I have so much more to give, tell me the joy I bring after a rainy day. tell me you love me, again and again.

we are not Romeo and Juliet. they die in the end . in the story of the Icarus and the sun, one does not survive and the other pays for it.

Dear future self, I hope you are better than I am, less shittier than I am, less selfish. I need you now but I don't know you yet.