Making Sense of Myself

I have been sitting cross-legged for about ten minutes sipping iced coffee staring at a blank screen constantly being reminded by WordPress with a large red blocked statement reading, “You haven’t written anything yet!” Yes, WordPress, I am completely aware of the fact that I have yet to write anything—it’s your problem, because?

Since, I have arrived in Austin, just a little over a week ago, I haven’t been able to write much. My mind has been preoccupied with so many other things that I haven’t actually allowed myself to sit and process my own thoughts, and in a way, part of me has been somewhat reluctant to do so. I feel like avoidance is something that comes naturally to myself. I don’t think any of us are inherently offensive, instead, we are reactive and defensive and avoid conflict or any sort of situation that we would deem uncomfortable as if our life depended on it. The avoidance of my thoughts usually is because I don’t want to deal with whatever I already know is going on, but in some situations, my avoidance is due to not understanding what I’m feeling at all. It’s almost as if some part of my brain shuts off a section that has to do with intuition, emotions, feelings, logic, and everything else that has to do with internal processing, and I am left as a shell of a human being who resorts to walking around doing things instead of feeling things.


Austin has been different. Part of me is still mourning leaving my beloved home state of California, and another part of me is trying to avoid that sadness and replace it with a positive outlook. There is not much to complain about with Austin other than the weather and insect population. The food is good enough, although I still haven’t found amazing Mexican or Asian food. The people are kind and engaging, warm even, and the usual awkward tensions that surround polite conversation in the Bay area seem like a thing in the past. It’s not a particularly beautiful place and I live with the constant regret of walking outside due to swarms of mosquitos, but occasionally at the right time of day, the Colorado River that runs through Austin looks so picturesque my jaw drops every time.


I could see myself loving this city. I could see myself developing a relationship quickly, all the while knowing that it won’t necessarily last. Eventually, I will realize that I never actually loved you, but I more or less needed to be loved, and you, Austin, were there to love me when I needed it. You held me, hoping that I would love you back, but I knew somewhere deep down that my heart never belonged to you. Over time, I will look back on this season of my life with fondness and genuine happiness, but I won’t live with the regret of leaving you.

Austin is sort of like reminder to myself that this season that I am in right now is worth it. It isn’t aimless but has meaning and life beyond what I know currently. This season is kind of like a little life reminder that everything I am working towards will be worth it, just continue to roll with the punches, and establish what you need to, now.


My coffee is getting watery because of the crushed ice in it that for someone reason seemed like a good idea to some person at this coffee shop—apparently, they didn’t realize that crushed ice melts quicker than cubed ice. Apparently, no one has ever complained about the fact that crushed ice is in their iced coffee because crushed ice is usually a good thing. Apparently, I am the only one complaining because as I look around I notice almost ten other people drinking the same iced coffee with watery separation skimming the surface of their glasses. Apparently, I have taken the job of the Apparently Kid, Noah Ritter, and apparently, my current sass level is extremely high.

S.O.S from a Californian Jewish Italian boy in Austin, Texas.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s