There is nothing about my life that indicates it as more interesting than anyone else’s.
I do what a lot of other people do: I eat, I sleep, I drink, I mourn, I hope, among other things. I’m the type of guy that does things just to do them, hoping that I can get some kind of rise out the situation. In essence, it feels like a boring life – but to those that actually know me, they would say it’s an overstatement.
This all started when I moved into my new apartment. I moved into a sizeable enough apartment in Astoria, Queens, in New York City. Some people would say I’m living it pretty good. “A lot of people would like to be in your shoes,” is what they would say.
But something is missing.
I work, make enough money, I’m by no means rich. But I’m comfortable enough to complain about things that are not worthy of being heard. Things like worrying about alternate side parking rules, and why I would rather drive in NYC instead of taking the train. But let’s admit it – especially for my fellow residents around here – the Subway here sucks, and it’s going to suck forever.
My name is Chris. And I’m just like you, trying to navigate through the struggles. And maybe once you’re passed those struggles, you’re trying to navigate through all the complacency.
So let’s navigate through all of this together.
You can call this one post something of an introduction. I’m merely trying to get my feet wet by writing and showcasing a little bit of a “writing-style.” Well, this is it.
I’m particularly proud of my writing, and it’s probably one of the only legitimate skills that I could demonstrate, so this all feels cathartic right now.
Stay tuned for more of the catharsis, and I’ll fill you in on this mission of ours.