New York's sidewalk grates above the subway are my favorite part of the city. I romanticize Anna Karenina as I often walk unnecessarily on them. Give me a crowd so I have an excuse to reject the traditional pavement out of courtesy for others! Now, comfortably bored by the festivities of home at Christmastime, I'm mourning this practice of mine. Still, today's trip allowed me time to think of how drama is the study of contrasts & travel is dramatic by nature. It needs no extraneous violent lurches to claim this quality. There is busyness, purpose offset by a slow progression of passing-by scenes which, no matter how fast one may be moving, come at their own leisure towards one's window with slow motion aliveness. Suddenly, the point & inherent tragedy of travel, they've passed. Made casualties by the rail.
Other thoughts (in chronological order):
- Damn, I've missed my stop.
- Damn, three hour delay.
- How fated to be seated next to a poet!
- She's applied to NYU's Creative Writing Program?!
- I love Deborah Landau.
- Damn, engine failure.
- Damn you, Amtrak.
- This man needs to speak louder so I can listen.
- This man reads Faulkner!
- This man needs to stop staring at me.
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