on being lonely

When the the checkout guy at the Trader Joe's on Atlantic asks if you prefer paper or plastic and it's the first time you've talked to someone all day, and you smile and respond and crave a follow up question, really any conversation, you know you're feeling lonely. The past few days I've spent most of my time wandering the streets of Brooklyn, checking Google Maps, scurrying across intersections, gazing upward at unfamiliar buildings and I've barely spoken to anyone. I have experienced an abundance of time to myself, unlike in San Diego, where all I do is see and talk to people I know. I have time to think about the next place to go, the next meal to eat, the next picture to take but primarily I think about the people I see on the streets. It's comforting. I imagine their stories, how the couple walking their tiny dog met, about why the woman on the train is crying unconsolably, about the homeless man I see each day when I turn onto Franklin, and why he remains there.

Many people say that New York City is the easiest place in the world to be alone, because in a way you never are. You wake up, walk outside of your apartment building, and there are people everywhere, surrounding you. Of course you don't know any of them personally, yet in its own strange way there's solace in the strangers around you. Everyone is alone together. For two days now, I've had to navigate myself around different neighborhoods, from Park Slope to Chelsea, taking in sights that are free and familiarizing myself with the Subway. I've taken advantage of the Brooklyn Public Library and its location mere minutes from my apartment as a refuge from the noise and heat; a place to write and observe. 

Yesterday, feeling particularly blue, I went to see a movie at the classic Angelika Film Center, where my worries could be washed away by the worries of fictional characters. Seeing a movie always seems to calm me down, something about the way everyone is forced to be quiet, sit still, turn off their cellphones, and focus, it's a refreshing experience. Hearing the train rumble and scream by in the background was something I wasn't expecting, but ultimately I understood that with the theater being underground, of course you would hear the train. 

After the movies, I wandered until my feet hurt, and grabbed a pistachio gelato, and walked around the West Village craving a friend. I got off the subway in Brooklyn and walked along Atlantic all the way to the edge of the East River where the smell of people barbecuing, and the silhouette of Manhattan overwhelmed me emotionally. I'm still adjusting to the fact that I'm here, and this is the view in front of me. Being lonely, while sometimes unbearable, is much different than being alone. And in New York City, you never are. 

And here are some pictures from my endless wandering the past few days... 

washington square arch 

west village 

"Beygl"