May 30, 2006
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i had a weird walk from the elevator to my front door just now. i
had been thinking about my appearance on the ride up from the
garage. there's not a lot to do in the elevator, so my mind tends
to wander. today, i was thinking about how i was dressed: simple
navy shoes w/stripes (can you tell i'm not used to describing
clothing?), simple khaki pants, simple powder-blue dress shirt, sleeves
rolled to the elbows, my emo glasses as usual, and my
backpack/manpurse. i was thinking, this is about as nicely as i
ever want to be dressed on a daily basis. really, i'd rather be
slouching about my day in a tshirt and jeans. i don't ever want a
job that will force me into a tie and jacket, or dress shoes.
sounds boldly unambitious, i'm sure, but it was just this fleeting
thought.and then, during the walk down the hallway, past the anonymous green
doors, i was overcome by a thought that struck me as one i'd seen
coming, long ago, but then forgotten. i think it was triggered by the act of reaching into my pocket for the
keys. it was such a pedestrian fixture in the everyday that,
maybe with the taint of my previous thoughts, it somehow separated out
of the moment for me. suddenly, i was reliving parallel moments
in various locations, reaching for keys (sometimes keycards) to open other doors. but
this one was my door. as i reached to unlock and open it, i
realized that i was one of the untold, anonymous millions that populate
every other place i'd ever been as a visitor, or ever would.i'd always find myself struck by thoughts of the countless, unknown
lives that go on behind the windows and doors of the alien buildings in
places other than the one i was currently calling home. no matter where i
went, or for what original purpose, these thoughts would draw me to
gaze and wonder at homes and officebuildings alike. and all this time, it was my life too that i'd
been wondering about; only in someone else's mind, and from their
other's perspective.ever think to yourself, who are all these people, trapped in their cars
on the freeway with me? what are their lives like? what do
they want the world to be?
Comments (6)
never
as i am shallow
and without virginity.
but i still have something for you.
like a sock in the face.
I think that what you just described is one of those things that people call a shared cultural consciousness. Right? And it's one of those things that's pleasant because you feel very connected, and like you're not at all alone in this world the way all those morose philosophers say. Although I have to say, I don't give the rest of the population enough credit to assume that anyone else would be meditating on that concept for very long, if at all-- the keys, the traffic, etc. But anyway.
Im getting a haircut tomorrow.
I always feel like a freckle-faced little boy when I say "I'm getting a haircut."
I don't like the footprints. So like, now you know I check your site for updates quite frequently. I feel weird about that. I also don't know how to access them from my own page. And you know what?? I think it's better that way. haha
mm. me too. and that's funny because i am pretty sure that i wrote a post just like this a year or two ago, except i was talking about people's cars and the stories attached to them. when i am at hunter, i can look out the classroom wiindows and see into people's apartments... and i sound like a stalker
Sometimes i'd stare at people's feet and think to myself "how would it be like to have such big feet?"
and i'm not kidding...
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