In the poem I wrote yesterday I mentioned something about patterns; about forming them and breaking them, and I want to explore that theme a bit more.
I’ve talked about my love/hate relationship with the suburbs, but the one thing that I’ve really been noticing is how the same it all is. The restaurants are chains, the houses are manufactured, the cars are all functional. It drives me crazy sometimes.
All I want is something unique. I want a coffee shop with a book trade, I want to bike to work, I want to try out that cute little Italian place on the corner with the grumpy owner and his cute son. I just want something different.
I feel like I have two sides; the one side craves stability, a nine-to-five with scheduled vacations, a dude who might be boring but at least he texts you back, a “regular” at my favourite restaurant every Friday night. And then there is the side of me that I indulge. The adventurer. I work a flexible job so I can pick up and leave if I want to, I date guys who seem interesting or mysterious but are really just flaky, I get frustrated if I eat the same thing for too long.
More and more, though I’ve been abandoning that first side. Let it sit for now. When I want to, I can go back to that stability. For now, I want to break the mould. (Only something less cliché, perhaps.)