This hits close to home, and only now do I (at least partially) begin to understand why I enjoy reading you so much, Eoghan.
Not that I've ever actively wondered "Huh... Why do I enjoy reading Brussels Notes to the point of almost systematically reading them as soon as they pop up in my mailbox?", because I hadn't ever thought about it.
But I guess there's something about what and how you write that must have subconsciously triggered the 'unknown familiar' flag in my mind's Reading-Comfortmeter (or som' like that - you prolly get it; I'm tired and can't express it better at the moment, my apologies) that keeps me coming back and never questionning why.
And I've been here self-oblivious just thinking I just enjoy reading an 'outsider' (but actually, as said previously: if you love Brussels enough to keep living here, you're a Bruseleir, period) writing about my Home, my Brussels, the only place where I feel comfortable being myself despite not always liking or consistently accepting myself, as if I lack something (as opposed to "something or someone is lacking") to be 'good at human life'; Brussels, who's challenged my own alienation as much as it's welcomed it, nurtured it and helped it becoming a positive aspect of myself.
Fuck's sakes, mate!, I absolutely cannot afford the shrink bill I owe you 😂 Thanks, though, but please don't come surprise-epiphanising me every week or there'll be consequences... SOCIALLY INTERACTIVE CONSEQUENCES! 🍻🫨🫣 Cheers
Edit: what a mess, sorry - I hope this makes some sort of sense to anyone reading this disaster of a comment.
Thank you for sharing this. I admire the courage to share vulnerability that clearly runs deep. First stage self awareness, second stage articulation. As you share I feel your sadness (am I right) and wonder what it is that you would like to be different?
You live with people.
You sit down at cafes and are amongst people.
They are less lonely, as you populate the space.
You walk the parks and there are birds, critters, dogs, who acknowledge you. The grass bends under your feet.
You don't have to actively talk to people in order to prove you're capable of it. Just living is ok.
Anyway, I get it. And noone can be held responsible in the spring, for words written in the dank darkness of January !
This hits close to home, and only now do I (at least partially) begin to understand why I enjoy reading you so much, Eoghan.
Not that I've ever actively wondered "Huh... Why do I enjoy reading Brussels Notes to the point of almost systematically reading them as soon as they pop up in my mailbox?", because I hadn't ever thought about it.
But I guess there's something about what and how you write that must have subconsciously triggered the 'unknown familiar' flag in my mind's Reading-Comfortmeter (or som' like that - you prolly get it; I'm tired and can't express it better at the moment, my apologies) that keeps me coming back and never questionning why.
And I've been here self-oblivious just thinking I just enjoy reading an 'outsider' (but actually, as said previously: if you love Brussels enough to keep living here, you're a Bruseleir, period) writing about my Home, my Brussels, the only place where I feel comfortable being myself despite not always liking or consistently accepting myself, as if I lack something (as opposed to "something or someone is lacking") to be 'good at human life'; Brussels, who's challenged my own alienation as much as it's welcomed it, nurtured it and helped it becoming a positive aspect of myself.
Fuck's sakes, mate!, I absolutely cannot afford the shrink bill I owe you 😂 Thanks, though, but please don't come surprise-epiphanising me every week or there'll be consequences... SOCIALLY INTERACTIVE CONSEQUENCES! 🍻🫨🫣 Cheers
Edit: what a mess, sorry - I hope this makes some sort of sense to anyone reading this disaster of a comment.
Thank you for sharing this. I admire the courage to share vulnerability that clearly runs deep. First stage self awareness, second stage articulation. As you share I feel your sadness (am I right) and wonder what it is that you would like to be different?
To be less sad 😂
😂Sounds like a title
Touching piece Eoghan. I just wonder: does the city cause this feeling of alienation? I mean, does it get better in a small town?
It's a good question! Maybe a different kind of loneliness