Moments
I was talking to my little brother last night, as I was driving around Beverley Hills, deeply regretting my decision to go out and explore. I was bitching, while on the phone, about how much this is just not my scene. How I was surrounded by trendy people, and how I just wanted to find a goddamn diverse neighborhood and have a little quirkiness thrown at me. I was mostly joking, but also not. I feel privileged about where I get to stay, what I get to experience. But it's still not me, this wealth and shallow awareness of others eyes and judgement. Anyways, I'm talking to him on the phone, and he's laughing, and I get a quick flash moment of awareness of his almost palpable need to be me in that moment. It's not jealousy, or a hatred of his life right now. It was just a quiet voice reminding him of what he used to be, used to want. Quiet but potent. A reminder of a past self that constantly wanted MORE, was discontent and addicted to the search for something better. In