16 dec 2022 * 23:42 / my own awkward friend

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Watching old shows and feeling nostalgic, looking at pictures of my friends
as children and imagining a reality in which we all were neighbors and
I would never have to tell anyone a story they wouldn't already know. Not
sure if that's an actual wish. People keep making the same observation:
We used to meet our friends parents all of the time, now we all have our
own homes and I have no idea what kind of people the parents of my friends
are.

I used to find it kind of awkward for most friends to visit my family home
when I still lived there. A chaotic, old home with noisy family members (myself
included) and a long busride from school. Only about two friends I liked to
invite home without worry.

This week I missed my parents, almost like I used to when I first left home.
Since the pandemic I have stopped visiting in the weekends and I see them
roughly every month. The calculation of this resulting in me seeing them
'only' 12 times a year frightened me. Maybe it is a couple of times more than
that, probably. I hope so. Until I left high school I saw them practically
every day of my life. Hopefully I will get better at travelling and at
staying in their house again. It's as if I am my own awkward friend
inviting myself to my house.

In my street there are always people screaming or yelling and often I can't
tell if they're just drunk or agressive. In my building someone is always
ruckling their throat loudly, like they're about to spit or something.

I miss singing loudly and having no city around me. I miss being so small
I can't look over the grass and run around in a seemingly never ending
garden. Never again will there be a rooster big enough to scare me back into the
house.