(no subject)
When I first moved here the city seemed to open up, stuffed with houses and beggars and mexicans, to a kind of bohemian freedom ( I can't think of a better term for it). Today the first chill of fall set in and I've been playing Ryan Adam's "Sweet Carolina" over and over again in a kind of desperate attempt to make it South, if not physically at least mentally. On my journeys to work the worst part isn't going past the sleeping statues of men in the park. It's getting on the metro. When you take that first step onto the escalator it's as if you are politely asked to leave your soul at the doorway. Please. Faces look drained and empty. I'm not really sure why this is. Perhaps it's a kind of etiquette of the big city transportation. But I find myself doing it as well. Sit, shove, rush, repeat. After it's all over, it reassures me of why the stone men are in the park. It's not about who the men were or what they did, but merely about form-hard, solid rock balancing in a state of empty action. I don't mean to harp on the city. I do love it. I enjoy the ease in getting around. The diversity. I do miss being able to call up someone and go out at night, because here, it's never quite safe to walk home after dark. And more than anything, I miss Mark. I never imagined that I could feel so lonely. All I want at night, after playing slave to so many, is to have him here. Just a simple reminder that I am someone special, worthy of attention. With him I don't have to play games or fight to be heard or validate my intelligence. I guess, more than anything, to make it through these next 6 months I'm going to need a little more job satisfaction, because at the moment I am very...well...unsatisfied.