Hometowns

 I’m sitting here in the middle of a Nordstrom’s shoe section looking at an angry mom waiting for her sister to show up and a herd of thirteen year old’s “OMG. These are shoes are only 198$. I can totally afford these and still buy concert tickets with my allowance.” I remembered why I always felt alone-different. The motivation I haven’t had for awhile was stagnant in the mall’s air. This is what inspired me years ago. The desire to not be anything like the hometown bubble I grew up in. I never wanted to be someone just pretty on the outside. Similarly,  I never wanted to be someone just pretty on the inside. Growing up in nouveau-riche South Florida taught me the importance of both a pretty well liked packaging and the need for an equally pretty content on the inside. My motivation was to be a complete package and to be one in a town that wouldn’t turn future me or my future kids into the very same people I grew up with. 
Thinking back to a conversation I had with a friend the other night, I can only agree with him more. Hometowns aren’t always the best to return too. Especially, hometowns like Boca Raton.  When we came home three things happened: (i) nostalgia, (ii) reminiscing and (iii) thoughts of the future. If I have ever listened any words of wisdom from therapists, online blog, buddhist monks, friends or family it’s that happiness comes from living in the moments. If you dwell in the past or the future you can never be happy. Returning home for me is a dangerous cancer. It is a set back to growth.
There was the sudden logic to my anxiety and chaotic dislike for being present  anywhere in this town. I came to a war barely being able to hold my sword. Just as only Arthur could pull the sword from the stone, not everybody can come back to their hometown and be happy. If I spent my whole life admiring birds for being free, how in the hell can I then find happiness by returning to the same nest I was born to? It is impossible. If I ever fully want to grow up and learn to move on, to get past trials and tribulations, or even just become an adult. I need to accept the fact that all I’ve ever wanted to do was leave the nest. That my decision to admire freedom was never something wrong in the first place.
Motivation is something that will never come easy for me. Biology works against me. However, maybe just remembering what I came from will be a guide to keeping little pieces of it along my road. After all, I am looking at everything I never wanted to become and realizing that yes I may not be the shiny convertible everyone wants to buy, but I am allowing myself to be the beat up Toyota with 60,000+ miles that can’t be fixed up. The person I was and aim to be has aspirations.


Tonight will be a night to try and not think. Since I was kicked out of my house I will do what I always like to do. I will look up at the night sky, listen to the crickets, and imagine a fantastical adventure in the starry landscape I longed to see again.


Tired, Sad and Strangely Motivated,
I.L. Knight

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Last Dance- One Ok Rock

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