::::
- She turns to me, a lil saddened, a lil discontent and wondering "will it be like this for the rest of our lives?". I have no answer for you, but sadly it seems that way. Life's progression has taken us from the realms of wide-eyed freshmen through the waters of college and into the necessary hike to "adult" life. I don't know how it works, yet it seems that it can be no other way - that we'll just enjoy the tease of short-lived rendezvous until that point in time when there are no more weddings. It's true. It's not like we'll be having reunions with kids attached to each limb. So sadly we must give the past its rightful mourning, realizing the joy of college joy can only be revisited in jabs. The time of over-thought birthday planning and elaborate caking. The time as underclassmen, as freshmen and sophomores, and the appreciation we have for the forerunners before us, that helped define our college roles and established who we are now. The luxury of proximity and familiarity that we tainted with, so it seems, necessary drama. It's done and over. A weekends time of organized activities and restraints in time for one activity vs. another is not enough to bring back those glory days. Rather, it makes our hearts yearn for what we don't have any longer, since it seems that greetings and farewells are the majority of getting back together. Now while this particular play ran through my head, and as I observed the towers enveloping me as we returned into the self-consuming busyness of the city, I realized just how beautiful this pain of longing makes that day. That fateful day when the world will rise and voices sing. We will walk streets of gold and bask in eternal company of one another. ...... ......To that day we make our toast.
And then those thoughts slowly ebbed away as I returned to responsibilities. So much for the weekend escape. Back to the frigid Chicago temperature and the dilapidated buildings down the street that continue to call to me. I walk across the street, dragging my body limp on lil sleep, and the rectangular bag that I lug on its wheels. Hurriedly, I make across the intersection before the lights turn green; I see them. They still stare at me wondering what this asian boy is doing in the this part of town. Some with perplexed looks. Others with eyes of hatred, filling in the whites of their eyes with a darker tint of gray/black. You're out of place in this black neighborhood, don'tchaknow.
...... I'm back in Lawndale.
lov'n it.
- old post
