Carlyle's Return

Moving to California has been a fucking trip. Since I’ve been here I’ve been radically excited, terrified to the point of tears, and endlessly lost, but for the first time I feel like I’m building a future. Although I have been sort of disconnected from my friends and my art, I’ve also been learning how to cook, and getting hella legs from biking everywhere. It's a painful growth, but growth.

Basically, I’ve never felt more free and independant, nor so cold and alone. Everyday I fall in love with this place for new reasons, but it’s been hard to adapt to moving after 20 years of being in the same county of the same state. I’m in a desert now, too. At all point in my life before this, I’ve lived near rivers. Now I live in a place you have to coax grass to grow.

And it’s a weird place in terms of people too. Never have I seen such skeevy, awkward, dorky, and kind people. I’m used to a place that people are more likely to react hostilely or disinterestedly than anything, so having people actually let me pet their dog and stop for a conversation is mindblowing. Still, my network is shabby and I haven’t made any deep friendships, so it’s hard to get up without feeling hollow, but by the end of the day I remember the sublime warmth this place has to offer.

So I’m really glad, and grateful, that I’m out here. Moving has been the hardest experience of my life in terms of holding on to my personality and who I am, but never have I grown so much. It feels like I’ve advanced years in terms of just relating to and understanding other people. Making friends to connect with on a consistent and profound level has proved nearly impossible, but hey - some bookstores have started carrying my novella in their stock.

Thanks for reading this. I wish you the best :)

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