I ride the train everyday to work. Morning and night. I'll usually try and find a seat that isn't so 'out in the open' of the trains' hallways. Something more isolated where I can finish my makeup, read my book, listen to my music or do all at once without anyone noticing what a ridiculous mayhem I always am. But the one thing I do more than any of those other important train duties or rituals, is stare at others. Stare and waste time to wonder about others' lives and the reason of what exactly brought them to this moment right now. Why this train and time? Are you going to work too? If so, why don't you have a uniform? I know I know I don't have one but it's because I have a cool job. You look like you should have a uniform. I telepathically talk or ask stupid rhetorical questions to as many people as I can during my ride. It's stupid, I know. But how can I not be curious about this person that just walked up and sat across from me like nothing! Boom down. Like nothing. Boom just down. He's a Haitian man, I'd say forty-five, and looks like he just came out from work. I mean, of course he did, the only people that ride these damn trains in Miami are people getting off or going to work, without means of decent transportation, people without cars. Of course there are those remarkable ones that ride just because they have nothing left to do, or perhaps just too young and foolish. This man however isn't one of those weirdos. I understand him. It's late, I know because he keeps looking at his old worn leather watch and sighing. Almost in despair, drowning and about to moan for a bed. He's tired, I understand. My feet hurt too I would easily tell him; if I knew him. He opens his stone colored backpack and he pulls out his earphones, long ride I see. I have a long ride too, I'd softly tell him; if I knew him. And so with his earphone gesture I pull my headphones out too. In a quick nod and eyebrow lift sort of face thing I tell him almost everything though, Thanks for reminding me, because I too have a long ride left in this florescent lonely snake. Maybe I should just pull out my harmonica huh? Just kidding.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
You don't know me completely even barely and vice versa, but I do love you. And I was hoping that you would love me too. And when you do begin to love me don't stop because whatever is the point of beginning something so intricate as this when all the while there is a lingering deadline in your mind? Don't do that to me stranger, please. When you see it work, ambiguities aside, would you tell me then that things will no longer fall apart? no more brilliant disenchantment whose choreography I know too well. Will you please promise me that decades will begin to be much more blissful because of your presence tangled into mine? With no vacant surprises anymore. Well that is all I hope for, dearest tall stranger of mine.