Sometimes I wonder why I have the urge to gag when I encounter something good for me. Life thus far has been full of experiences most likened to a subway trip through our countryside. sometimes my thoughts connect to the commuter or the compulsive soda drinker as they exit, i follow them down the tunnel like an invisible, hearty grosgrain ribbon that has been safely pinned to a pant leg. unfurling like a ball of yarn, a fern.
But usually i sit on the subway train to the future, taking in the sallow faces so set upon being disengaged. The light flicker, the cord pulls and the kid next to me stands up, rocks a bit, adjusts her hoodie, and pushes her way off.
If I sat in my little seat with a little dent hollowed out for my ass, and permeated good, what would happen?
I am going to get on the public transit this week and go to the mall.
I think these thoughts while away from the farm. My father and sister stack hay, clean the chiminey,and put compost on the spring garden plots. I watch people walk around with shopping bags and write a few lines here and there.
3 comments:
Talk to strangers. I did it on the subway from Brooklyn to Manhattan the first time I went there after 9/11. The desire for people to connect is palpable in public transportation. I knew if I didn't connect with someone, I would start openly weeping. So, I talked to the stranger across from me about his little boy. Then I talked to someone else on the subway platform, and then later in line at a grocery store. We're all in this together.
Ashley , did you want to weep because of the sadness of the deaths on 9/11?
I felt the urge to weep on account of the sadness that was hanging in the air. You could almost taste the despair.
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