i was doing the walking
i just went for a walk, because that's what i do when i'm suffocating in my own house.
didn't walk far, a few blocks west, then north, then west again, and south, and east, and west, and so on. everyone was doing the walking the dog, the driving my car, the going to places. me, i was just doing the walking and the listening to music and the being depressed.
i saw this girl that looked a bit like a hooker. i wondered if she was, and she could've been. the so called "red zone" is pretty close to my apartment. i wondered why she did it, if she had lost something so deep withing herself that she needed others to roam and search and dig for places she couldn't reach.
maybe she just needed the money.
i wanted her to look different, i wanted her stomach covered and her heels lowered and her hips to be still. i wanted her eyes to look different, i wanted her to look at me warmly instead of ignoring me in favor of going forward with closed-off eyes.
i wondered if she was angry.
i went north. the rain from yesterday was now flowing down gutters. it looked clean. i was going in the exact opposite direction, seeing it clear under the night lights, and oh how i wanted to drink it. i wanted it to be cold and rich and good, in my throat and my hair and my skin. i would have even let it fill my lungs. as though it was okay for me to go that way, with this water gushing to places, east, to the river.
i thought about the hooker and how she was going in the same direction. maybe she was planning to drown.
i let my foot hover above the rain water. maybe she had found a john. slowly, i stepped on it, barely grazing the surface. maybe a car had ran into her. then, carefully, i went further, soles into the water, but not the fabric, no. is that an ambulance i hear? there, not the fabric, water spilling onto the street.
is it? that sound?
i felt the cold liquid enter my shoe, wetting my sock.
i sighed. i didn't mind. i went home and sat down and didn't turn the news on because if anything had happened, it would never be on the tv. either because she was a prostitute, or because who cares, who cares, too many accidents happen. maybe she was just a receptionist.
who cares.
didn't walk far, a few blocks west, then north, then west again, and south, and east, and west, and so on. everyone was doing the walking the dog, the driving my car, the going to places. me, i was just doing the walking and the listening to music and the being depressed.
i saw this girl that looked a bit like a hooker. i wondered if she was, and she could've been. the so called "red zone" is pretty close to my apartment. i wondered why she did it, if she had lost something so deep withing herself that she needed others to roam and search and dig for places she couldn't reach.
maybe she just needed the money.
i wanted her to look different, i wanted her stomach covered and her heels lowered and her hips to be still. i wanted her eyes to look different, i wanted her to look at me warmly instead of ignoring me in favor of going forward with closed-off eyes.
i wondered if she was angry.
i went north. the rain from yesterday was now flowing down gutters. it looked clean. i was going in the exact opposite direction, seeing it clear under the night lights, and oh how i wanted to drink it. i wanted it to be cold and rich and good, in my throat and my hair and my skin. i would have even let it fill my lungs. as though it was okay for me to go that way, with this water gushing to places, east, to the river.
i thought about the hooker and how she was going in the same direction. maybe she was planning to drown.
i let my foot hover above the rain water. maybe she had found a john. slowly, i stepped on it, barely grazing the surface. maybe a car had ran into her. then, carefully, i went further, soles into the water, but not the fabric, no. is that an ambulance i hear? there, not the fabric, water spilling onto the street.
is it? that sound?
i felt the cold liquid enter my shoe, wetting my sock.
i sighed. i didn't mind. i went home and sat down and didn't turn the news on because if anything had happened, it would never be on the tv. either because she was a prostitute, or because who cares, who cares, too many accidents happen. maybe she was just a receptionist.
who cares.