(no subject)
I was out today... by myself.
I know this may not seem like anything to most of you who walk through the world, but for me it is something. Mostly I hide now.
I walked through Harvard Square in a daze almost, only trying to get to the bus stop, but there was so much between that bus stop and me.
I saw the ghosts of payphones, now only oddly shaped holes in the brick sidewalk. I sat on those benches so many times, often crying. Sometimes I wonder how many tears are in the wood of those benches, the desperate tears of junkies. Like me.
I am reminded so often that the world I walk through is my own, mine and mine alone, built by those experiences that shaped me, that shaped my experience of the world.
We all walk through our own lonely worlds- and every day we are new.
There are places that are alive. They are alive with the ghosts of things which might have never existed, which only exist as passing memories our my minds.
So I walk through those places, I walk through Harvard Square and I experience those payphones, and those tears, and I am the only one who knows they even exist.
I know this may not seem like anything to most of you who walk through the world, but for me it is something. Mostly I hide now.
I walked through Harvard Square in a daze almost, only trying to get to the bus stop, but there was so much between that bus stop and me.
I saw the ghosts of payphones, now only oddly shaped holes in the brick sidewalk. I sat on those benches so many times, often crying. Sometimes I wonder how many tears are in the wood of those benches, the desperate tears of junkies. Like me.
I am reminded so often that the world I walk through is my own, mine and mine alone, built by those experiences that shaped me, that shaped my experience of the world.
We all walk through our own lonely worlds- and every day we are new.
There are places that are alive. They are alive with the ghosts of things which might have never existed, which only exist as passing memories our my minds.
So I walk through those places, I walk through Harvard Square and I experience those payphones, and those tears, and I am the only one who knows they even exist.