I Get Lonely

Janet Jackson once professed to feelings of loneliness of a distant lover in the one of her most dazzling albums, Velvet Rope. But this ain’t missing a lover. Or about Janet, whom we love. This is about an overwhelming sense of loneliness I’ve felt for the past few weeks, how I’ve sat with it, and how I’ve allowed myself to transform it for the better.

Let’s get this straight, this time in Spain has been truly transformative and continues to be. However, it’s been a slow and internal transformation. I’m by no means overcome with an immovable loneliness that ventures into depression or the like. Rather, it’s one that causes introspection. My weekly is not one which requires much interaction with others. I work in school 16 hours a week, spend about 90 minutes every day at the gym, and maybe another one hour with my roommate who works nights. I spend much of my free time watching Spanish films/television, reading, scrolling (not too much), and thinking. Thinking. Pondering. Pontificating. Ruminating. Whatever it is, it’s crossed my mind. And the main thing that crosses my mind is me.

Much of my life has been surrounded by noise and other people’s expectations of me. From my parents, I was to supposed to be a smart, well-mannered Christian boy. Educators had high expectations of me academically. And friends could always count on me for a fun night of drinking and debauchery. However, I’m away from all of that, and all of them. I now have the chance to exam the past 34 years of my life and decide how I want to spend the rest of my time here. I don’t wish to party or drink excessively. Being in the church is not a current part of my life, but I do respect numerous New Testament aspects of Christianity. I still, however, am an overachiever and expect much from myself. A lot of journaling, meditation, and some therapy has gone into this process, as well as my introduction to Buddhism over two years ago. Since then, much time is spent digging to the root of my desires and passions in life. What do I want to do and why? What interested me as a child and can be furthered nurtured? How do I continue to pour love into myself so that it radiates into every aspect of my life? It’s not enough for me to make internal shifts and have them remain within me. I improve myself in order to improve my environment. The better my environment, the more I can thrive and help others to do the same. In all honesty, I want to and will be the most abundant and best of myself. Additionally, I want to ensure the greatness I achieve can radiate to those around me. I may not change the world, but I want myself and others to take charge to move toward a better one.

Loneliness transformed into solitude after sometime. Some weeks ago, I found a manifestation journal from 2023. Coming to Spain to teach was one of my goals – and I’m doing it! Back then, I thought my biggest sacrifice would be the drastic decrease in income. Although the income cut was huge (Lord, please let’s land a remote from anywhere job soon), I’m not struggling and I’m learning things money cannot buy. Most importantly, I’m happy. This teaching contract isn’t forever; I will not be contained to this part of Spain forever. It’s all in preparation for the next parts of life.

(The title of this should’ve alluded to “my loneliness is killing me” from …Baby One More Time and now I’m upset it doesn’t! Apologies to my fellow bayou born star, Miss Britney Spears)

Whiskey & Coke

Spanish law dictates that people must arrive to clubs after 1 am on weekends, or else face public shame and risk becoming a pariah. A popular form of socializing in Spain entails going to bars or clubs until the late morning hours. In a feeble attempt to fit into this culture, I decided to scope out a local club in December. Convincing myself to shower and get ready at 10 pm was as difficult a task as any, but by 11:15, I was out of the door. With the assistance of Google Maps, I located a spot nearby which stays open until 4 am. The first red flag appeared as I was approaching the entrance.

“Hey maestro! David!” one of my students shouted as I breezed past the entrance. Why was he at the club? And why was he smoking a cigarette? We exchanged greetings and I went inside to a sparsely packed and dimly lit club. Promptly, I gave my order to the bartender, a Jack Daniels & Coca-Cola. After grabbing my drink and paying, I wandered around the club observing and listening to the “Spain Top 50 songs” Spotify playlist that was playing over the speakers. As I was fininshing my first drink, a young-ish guy approached me and offered to buy me another which I happily accepted. Finally, after an hour someone spoke to me. I made a new conversation buddy, or so I thought. His name was Alexei and he was from Eastern Europe. For work, he spent his days driving freight trucks. His English was good enough for us to converse comfortably. He was shocked I to learn that I was from the USA. I got the “what is an American doing here” question that I have come to love and respond to differently each time it is asked. Alexei’s eyes lit up after I handed my Texas driver’s license and he was even more shocked to see my age. See, Alexei was only 24 but reads as a strong 35, my age. Cigarette smoking is still very much en vogue here much to the delight of dermatologists I would assume. After maybe 20 minutes of introductory conversation, Alexei leans in to ask if I smoke anything. Now, in the past, I have been known to enjoy an intoxicated cigarette or some reefer madness. Alexei’s slight grin and head tilt informed me that he was pleased with this answer which led him to his follow up question, “do you like to snort anything like cocaína?” I sheepishly shook my head no, and wouldn’t you know it, the conversation fizzled out shortly therafter. We chatted for a few more minutes before Alexei headed to the back patio. Frazzled, I finished my drink and walked back home. I was not interested in hitting the slopes with Alexei and nor was I particulary enthralled by the droves of twentysomethings which had recently entered the club. It was 1 am in Spain and I decided to break the law and take my ass home.

Once in the comfort of my Spanish apartment, I couldn’t help but laugh at the situation and relax for a bit before heading to bed. After flipping through channels, I landed on a film with an interesting title, Esta abuela es un peligro, or This Grandmother is a Danger. I expected to see a Spanish thriller about a frantic, gun-toting grandmother. Instead, what I got was Martin Lawerence in a fat suit and a dress. Esta abuela es un peligro is nothing other than Big Momma’s House. And just like that, I decided that was enough confusion for one night and went to bed.

Unplugging

RIP Meta.

In 2005, one of my childhood friends sent me an invitation to join thefacebook.com, a new social network open exclusively to college students. It had recently expanded to high school students as well, so we signed up and joined the fun as well. Honestly, it was not fun in the beginning. I only had a handful of friends for the first few months. Myspace was still very much the vibe back then, along with xanga and livejournal – sites where we could create. But The Facebook was different (yes, it was called The Facebook in the aughts). You didn’t create on it as much as you observed and commented. But it was new. And different. At 15 years old, I loved being the first or one of the first to have something new. Hell, I was the second person in my high school to own a Motorola Razr phone – that was big deal. The Facebook was another new thing that I was excited to be a part of despite not knowing much about it. This was September of 2005.

On January 13 2025, I deleted my Facebook account along with Instagram and FB Messenger. I ulitmately made the decision to do so based on a number of factors, number one being due to how closely Mark Zuckerberg and the Meta team have aligned themselves with the pro-fascist Trump presidential cabinet. Second, and more importantly, being on those apps felt spiritually draining. Comment sections on Facebook and IG reels were filled with grown adults (and bots) hurling vile remarks reeking of xenophobia and stupidity. I tried in earnest to not read comments, but it was like depriving myself of the social aspect of social media. Reading the comments used to be fun. It was a way to interact with the creator and whoever else came across the media. But people got mean. We always say kids are mean, but if those mean kids never fix their behavior, then they become mean adults. And those mean adults become assholes in social media comments. It’s truly exhausting after awhile. The last reason I disconnected? I got bored. After seeing the creativity on TikTok, I grew increasingly bored from the Meta feeds. IG reels were recycled TikToks. The memes were from pre-2018 Tumblr and Twitter, the latter of which I also deleted. First day of school pictures. Insipid political commentary. Xenophobia. OOTD. Clips from idiot podcasters masquerading as journalists. All of it was redundant and boring. And maybe that was my fault. Maybe my algorithm was showing me boring ragebait content because I interacted with boring ragebait content. Either way, I am not sticking around to find out.

I came to Spain to try something new, to break away from old habits, and to grow. I am finding that it takes time to release, to overcome, to expand. The process is not linear nor is it necessarily quick, which, as an Aries, is not fun for me, but I am leaning into it. To be honest, I have no choice but to lean into it and have patience. I am in a town of about 10000 people and infrequent bus service to other parts of the country. Opening up to the unknown will have its challenges, but it’s not impossible. And I haven’t completely ruled out social media. Red Note is quite fun and I wanted to learn Mandarin Chinese anyway, so I’m staying. Bluesky is growing on me and YouTube is YouTube. Moreover, I’ve rediscovered the joy in journaling everyday and I got a library card from the local library. New adventures require new maps and I’m ready to keep exploring.

Full Moon in Cancer

A few years ago, I adopted the mindset to begin treating my birthday as the start of the new year. Let’s face it, our birthdays are the beginning of a new year of life for us, and lucky for me, that’s in April. Springtime. The beginning of the astrological year aka Aries season. And as of today, my new year is in exactly 3 months. I’m not going to get into the astrology of it all, mostly because it’s an area of expertise, but as a cancer moon individual, my feelings of letting go are running rampant.

I arrived in Spain at the end of October eager to begin my time as an English language assistant in a local colegio. This excursion was years in the making. An advisor from undergrad spoke of it. That was over a decade ago. But I’m here now. I’m here in a pueblo of 11000 approximately 45km from the Mediterranean Sea. It’s a far cry from Houston, Texas. No one here looks like me. There are stares, sure, but no scowls. The important is that I overcame countless doubts, struggles, addictions, and fears to get here. And I’m proud of myself.

Yesterday, I finally deleted Facebook, Messenger, and Instagram for good. Coincidence right? Delete Facebook, which I’ve had since 2005, and go back to blogging. Except this feels a bit more grownup up than Xanga and a little less adult than old Tumblr (RIP). Meta files and photos were transferred to an external drive. No more idiotic ads, ai rubbish, political pandering and sophomoric social commentary. That social media era is now behind me. I’m ready to move forward. To create. To expand. To love. To become. Most of all, I’m remembering all that which was important to me as a child and translating that into adult life. To make my younger and current selves happy. To go from the bayou to beyond.