January 16, 2009 § 1 Comment
I forced myself out on a walk today, further than the corner, all the way to Hudson St, and the cold was biting but I was layered up and with my new $8 hat was okay. Still depressed, though knowing it is finite, some inner purge or tantrum; it never ceases to astonish me how I can revert to the worst: pulling my boots on I wanted to start gnawing on my leg like a trapped animal, which, admittedly, I never did, but I would bite my arms once upon a time, leaving deep marks. Not now. Now they hurt all by themselves.
So I was out in the world, chewing on my psyche…which is like an ancient dog-toy which the poodle settles with in the corner glancing at you reproachfully for noticing…as I was thus occupied, suddenly the light turned up a notch and I saw the street, W. 4th, the snow covered cobblestones and sidewalks, the restaurant awnings, and it was all white and blue, sun and grime and men shoveling, traffic moving thoughtfully, twinkling leftover Christmas lights…19th century and 1970 and all the years of the past when the world’s beauty was plastered on my eyeballs day and night. MY neighborhood. I love it, I do.
And I’m glad they rescued all the people from the river (flight 1549). Our embracing waters, even if they are damn cold.
I love your neighborhood, too! My old haunts. Gee, this blogging thing is addicting. I mean, I’ve been taking peeks at yours and it’s like reading a, well, an intimate novel or memoir and you kind of want to see what happens next…..