Walking down 40th Street in Midtown Manhattan after work I experience the 10 minute rush so many others feel when they leave work. “I need to get to my train,” I tell myself. “Get the fuck out of the way,” is what my body language says.
People come from the other direction like jagged rocks in a rushing river current. Some people are cooperative, they create a dance trying to match your bobbing and weaving. Others meet your force of motion with their own opposition. People clash with each other in the street like exploding meteors, like crashing suns. I tell myself, “just two more blocks and I’ll be there.”
I look back at all the times I’ve felt anxious; through the long 40+ minute commutes home on public transportation from high school through the countless “adult” jobs I’ve held. I look back at my attempts to put my thoughts together for myself to review, and for anyone who cares to see. I’m thankful for finally finding a way to bare witness to life and share it with anyone. Here in cyberspace, I’m home. It’s good to be back.