Dreams of Europe
There’s a large part of me that wants to move to Europe. Perhaps it will happen, someday… if only I could save up enough money; however, I believe that deep down, the reality is that if I should arrive, there I’ll be. This isn’t fair or true, the fact that people say, “wherever you go, there you are.” Yes, I am here, the land far, far away, Washington D.C. I’ll admit it, I got a little greedy, I came here assuming that people would appreciate art, also that I’d make more money than I did while living in Idaho. I’ll also admit that I made an egregious blunder. I took out a $20,000 loan to move here, got slapped in the back of the head with transactionalism, cronyism, humanistic predation, and feelings of alienation. It was a terrible blunder, a move of profound naivete. I should have read more about this bizarre major city before moving here. The crime, the gloom (although not nearly as bad as Seattle), the paranoia, the hollow stares, the isolation…
Washington D.C. is no place for artists. It is a den of sharks, a feeding frenzy upon those of whom lack the credentials to defend themselves. It is a status obsessed pseudo-utopia. SUV’s everywhere to avoid compressed disks of the back. The metro is for those forced to ride it, while cars fight in traffic to avoid it. It is a food fight, a zootopia for those of whom would rather not live here.
Oh, it is true, I have not talked to one person in Washington D.C. who has told me, “I could not imagine living anywhere else, this place, D.C., is home.” This city is forced upon you, and anyone who believes differently is either a multimillionaire or a fool, and even the most foolish are ran out eventually, myself included.
I think the truth is that if I were to make it to Europe, I’d live in fear, just as I do here. Instead of the teens roaming the streets, I’d be afraid of having to speak German, French, Polish, Italian, or Slovene. I’d sit in my apartment staring through the blinds at the locals, afraid of all the strange languages I’d hear. Afraid of the Russian drones buzzing around, terrified of all the change I told myself I’d openly welcome.
In truth, I don’t like change. I like stability, high walls, institutional protections, and privilege above all else. It’s pretty disgusting to say, but I think I’ve become a NIMBY lite, an HOA recruit, or at the very least, have started staring intently at the application. Yes, how unfortunate, to become one of those crabby rule followers. The same people I used to openly despise in my youth. Those people who say, “we need more laws, more regulations!” God, what have I become, to even think such a thing goes against everything I was in my 20’s. The lone ranger riding his motorcycle, running from the cops, lying to them, while watching his friends and himself get detained. Where did my sense of adventure go? Have I been domesticated? Is this domesticity?
Hello! We’re D.J. Hoskins
We are Davena and Jason Hoskins, co-authors of 40+ books and siblings who write under the pseudonym D.J. Hoskins. Three years apart and in our twenties, we have been fascinated by stories from a young age. Davena is a student attending Princeton University, and Jason attends Georgetown University.
