"How depressing," I thought this morning as I ran past one of those "developments" where all of the houses look exactly the same. It struck me quickly, though, that those very same inhabitants might find my living situation depressing: a small apartment (compared to their houses) on a fairly ugly block in Brooklyn. My heaven is their hell, and vice versa. I suppose that's why we are all different.
They have a house to spread out their stuff, and I have a city to spread out my personality. Honestly, I think most of us have too much stuff. I need to go through my things and get rid of stuff. I know after I come back from my trip, overwhelmed at my possessions and choices, I will have an easier time combing things out.
It's so interesting how we all live so differently, yet so closely. I love that especially about NYC. My friend Richard was house-sitting for a friend in a luxury Manhattan high-rise. "It's depressing, the view," he told me. "You look out the window and it looks like a cemetery. All the buildings look like tombstones. Like a graveyard." I've never held that perspective and have worked in various tall buildings in NYC; I rather like the view. But I suppose it just proves the beauty that we see is truly in our own eyes only, coming from our own perspective.
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