A Lesson in You Can’t Always Get What You Want.

I guess this is where I am at 19 limping on 20. Somewhere in the middle of nowhere near where I thought I would be and the 405.

Everything a small version of what it used to be a couple years ago. I remember so many faces, nice welcoming faces. The days of salad and schooling. I would walk through a crowd and exchange true pleasantries with a good assortment of people. The social aspect of school always did make me the happiest. I still remember those faces, so many of them.

I dont mean to make it sound like I loathe every second of my existence, although I’m sure thats what the reader assumes from pretty much every one of my posts.

The pace is just different. Very slow. Absolutely no one is to blame for this. The people in my life right now are amazing. Every second I spend with them is a cool comradery, because at the very Ieast they help me forget what it’s like to return to this vodka drinking, mandarin chasing, hole in the middle of a county of angels. Or devils, who the fuck knows anymore.

Certain aspect I only dreamed about when I was still in school. I have a pretty stellar chick right now. My lesbian english teacher can kiss me where the good lord split me for using the term “chick”. “They don’t like to be referred to that way”, the supposedly liberal chick commented on one of my essays about what I’de like in my life.

I’m in a diffrent area now too. I had always heard that the valley was a desolate piece of lifeless shit (okay, so I combined a few views into one that I created), but I never imagined that it would lead to virtually total drought in social activity and bring me to possibly the slowest pace of living I have ever felt.

It’s like going on a vacation for eternity, except the vacation feeling never started because the valley just isnt that pleasant. It isnt quiet enough to be considered a vacation and it isnt loud enough to not be. It’s in that finicky fuck me middle ground that makes people cringe when hearing that one of their friends is moving there. Of course the rent is low.

Maybe my reasons are different than society’s for condemning this place, but I’m sure we agree on at least a couple bulletpoints.

There are other places similar I’m sure but none quite like it; no, the very true and unique subtle feeling of the valleys shitstain on a world map begins to set in when you’re here for what I looking back think to be 2 weeks.

One more cigarette, I’m in the valley after-all.

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