suburbia is dead to me.

pocket notebook entry: Suburbia is dead to me.

Not the place. The posture. The sleepy-town idea of "I've done my job, that's enough." Clock out at five, TV for a couple hours, shower, bed, repeat. Settling as in settling down, but also settling for the life that's handed to you.

The people I went to school with are getting married, having kids, doing the nine to five, and that's it. I don't want that. I want to keep reaching, keep making, keep living my life.

You could live in the suburbs your whole life and never settle. You could live in the city and settle anyway. So maybe it was never about the zip code.

Still open: is the restlessness about where I am, or about how I'm wired?

[added 10/17/26] It's this feeling that we work so hard all day long, all week long, and for what?

I don't want to live to work. I want to work to LIVE. Follow my curiosities, spend time outside, do activities; I want to look forward to something when I finish working during the week or at the end of the working week. I can't imagine working and being excited to do nothing, just to go back to work and do it all over again. What's the point? Why am I here? What else can I do? What MORE can I do?