something is happening to me where i am no longer willing to live with other people. i used to feel the most fulfilled in the company of others and empty when left to my own devices. but the crowdedness of new york city is real and it didn't take long to feel bone-weary of it. i hate feeling like there are always other people underfoot, standing in my way, squeezing me from the sides, listening to my conversations, staring at me, panhandling, being fucking insane. it's not charming and it's not romantic. at the end of every long day i come home to my new-york-sized room in my apartment filled with new-york-style tension stemming from idiosyncratic roommates, omnipresent and increasingly confrontational.
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