Two Roads
I walked by myself all over downtown Madrid today. It’s a city of extravagant history and legendary nightlife. A place of world-renowned kings and queens, movie stars and reality tv stars, musicians and artists; it’s really so easy to be a nobody here. I strolled into Atocha this afternoon. There was dust in the air. It wasn’t anything residual from when the bombs exploded a few years ago but it made for a surreal walk in the jungle. Literally. There was a jungle inside this train station. I meandered between the trees and sat for a while. A boy came up to me and we played European football with an American football; quite interesting. As I walked out toward the train platform, a bird pooped on me. Smile. Laugh. Continue. Wandering the streets, I came upon Retiro. Seeing is believing. Mere words cannot do it justice. I first encountered a simple dirt bike path. I followed it until I came upon an old man crumbfeeding birds. I stopped, we spoke. I continued into some neck of the woods, I came upon two roads in these woods. They diverged. Your move, Robert Frost. I saw a pack of tourists and followed them to a lake I hadn’t before seen. There were people rowing boats on the duck-filled lake surrounded by flowers and a man playing slow accordion tunes. This wasn’t January, it was closer to heaven. A couple was making out and those silly tourists were posing for photos. Oh! Maybe I’ll end up in someone’s photo album, on someone’s mantle. I’ll be another background nobody amidst their chaotic vacation memories. But I’ve got my own chaos. I couldn’t really stand to be a somebody in this wonderfully crazy mess I’m in.