Strange, Meeting the World of the Past

Strange, meeting the world of the past, especially when it is your own. I was sitting in a meeting at work today which was comprised of my teammates and immediate supervisors.

A few people from our department are moving on in the next couple of weeks, one for a different job, another for retirement. We got onto the topic of going away parties and where they were being held.

It turns out one of the parties is happening near Astor place. Everyone began discussing there area, but I wasn't sure where it was at first, until one of the managers said it was near St. Mark's where the weirdos are. Everyone seemed in agreement that people in that area are strange.

It brought back a flood of memories to me, and yearning. A ton of things rushed into my head and heart at that moment. An onslaught of nostalgia and the yearning of my 15 year old self upon discovering that area of town. I felt like I was in Heaven, that I had discovered a place I truly wanted to be - that perhaps I had found a proper location to exist. Of course, sitting there today in the meeting, more than a decade from my 15 year old self, almost a lifetime removed from the person I was, it absolutely made no sense to relate any of those buried thoughts or feelings. And it also seemed strange to me that for months now I have worked with these people, day in and day out, and they will never understand the person I am based on the person I was. They will only (as will people moving forward) know the person I am right now, today. I think that is not a bad thing.

Not that all of my past is tumultuous or burdensome, but there is a substantial amount of recent periods that were. Some things are better left in the past. Too bad I seem to be the kind of person that has a difficult time leaving things that way. I find it strange to not view things as an amalgamated whole, to take just a piece of this or that and paint a pleasant picture, though I suppose at times I should.

And now my sleep deprived mind is rambling from topic to topic. The New York of my adolescence barely graced this page. How unfortunate. Maybe another day I'll paint a better picture of the place, of those few images still fresh in my mind from that bitter winter. :)

Sweet Dreams!