Boston

So,I've become increasingly quiet and have almost completely lost interest in talking.Everytime I pull myself to say something,what comes out sounds irrelevant and doesn't change a single thing.Like my own existence has become pure air and things like talking,eating and everything else seems so dull and the people I still do find interesting are constantly unreachable but when we actually do communicate nothing remarkable happens.I'm waiting for something big,something different and I fear this life has settled into its mold and become permanently fixed to what it is but all of this is self-indulgent talk and I do sound like a character on Grey's Anatomy "Oh,look at how bad my life is pity me please" and its absolutely pathetic.

Been in the US for a while now,and though my initial ideas of Boston weren't too great I've come to love this place for exactly what it is.Bostonians have a sense of genuity that is not at all forced-when they do come across as helpful and approachable,its a warm and personal thing and it doesn't feel like a big tourism gimmick as if to repeatedly declare "Hey,I'm nice!Now love me!".More than once I've had random strangers come up to me,and not always because they think I'm a tourist-and the sense of community is strong in a way that is inherent to the society itself,they haven't simply adopted some idea of unity for the sake of it.I think you get the message and I'm not exactly being subtle,so I'll cease banging you on the head with a saucepan now.

Okay well I've only had one bad experience so far and that was the big fight before dinner with the hostess of Union Oyster House who taught she was the Big Ol' Queen just cause she had mic & her own dandy corner.We had a booking for 830pm and only got the table at 850 after I pestered her about 3 times,the 3rd time I threw this wild bitch fit and she said Calm down everyone here knows you have a booking and I said Well,then? and she said Lower your voice sir,I'm doing the best I can why don't you wait at the bar and be patient and I of course accidentally went of course because I hate it when people talk down to me like I'm some bloody subordinate so what ensued was me shouting a bit and a couple dramatic hand gestures and we got our table in 2 seconds and it was JFK's favourite booth or whatever and the lobsters were good and the service was excellent but by the end I still wanted to shove a shovel up that old fugger's ass.

I care for a lot less nowdays,so when Ma said this and that Auntie thinks you're rude (these aunties,sometimes they expect me to be some Brad Pitt spectacle) I can't manage to muster the littlest bit of interest so I say Oh well,they have a point I guess.So I think this has evolved somehow,or taken a new route-into some kind of patience,a stronger will and newfound optimism that is both interesting and good for the soul (ha?),but also something obsolete because at the end of the day,I still don't give two shits about whatever.Anyhu,R & I went for whale watching and it turned out to be a really hot day and R neglected to wear sunblock before leaving so she was telling me a couple sunburn experiences and later the trip to the whale watching spot was a 2 hour cruise and she fell asleep on the deck and looked so peaceful except two hours later ended up with a really bad sunburn with only the area around her eyes an odd shade of white due to being behind the sunnies all day.And later she pointed to the whale watching brochure with this picture of a whale leaping excitedly from the surface in this crazily dramatic fashion and said Now this is what I expected and I said I'm sure they photoshopped this because what we saw was nowhere near this the whales must've been dead.They "logged" around and the tour guide made this genormous issue about how every spring they named the whales and they gave really silly names like Salt & Pepper and I think to myself haven't those whales suffered enough already.And at the Isabella Gardner Museum I opted to take the audio tour and I was shocked to find that they've included,as part of the audio tour,opinions from random 6 year olds and teenagers who were approached out of the blue and the whole audio commentary reached a level of amateurishness that was unprecendented and extremely frustrating.On a lighter note,the Gardner Museum was stunning and I helped this man with a cane carry his food tray out and he said You're a kind young man and I thought I wish this was the truth,helping old men carry food trays is the least I can do but someone with my health and opportunities should be able to do so much more and I suddenly think how depressing it would be for this very old man to die.Also,over lunch I was an active listener to a conversation between two queerly dressed women who were talking about calorie counting and how their grandkids were bringing back boys and whether they liked these boys and I wonder at that age,would I be at museums doing the same thing at what would I think about the creepy youngster at the next table who was pretending to read his guide book but was obviously eavesdropping,would I be contented with the way things were or would I be suffocating in regret for my own wasted youth?

And all this ranting makes me feel alive again,like I'm part of the world-as if all this anger has ressurected me from a period of numbness and unfeelingness and I'm not concerned if thats even a real word,as if emotions were regarded as sign of human life otherwise you were some insignificant android with a job or something to do noone cared about.Makes me think about the bigger picture,and whether what I'm doing and who I'll become in the next 5 years coincides with that or do I just stay like this,just like this.I won't move a single thing,and forever remain young and stupid.

I have to do something.

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+This article includes the Isabella Gardner Museum as one of the Top 10 US Places to see Before you die.Honestly though,the place is seriously something special.I'm a step closer to dying happy.