Booming voices pierce eardrums
Of the feeble and lonesome
Conversation permeates the air
Vulgar and wholesome
Blueprints for chaos designed
For the pillars of gossip
Sturdy skyscrapers of jealousy
Standing tall, proud among animosity
Hallmark of eternity
Until the jetliner of frustration
Penetrates the core of hellish edifices
Sends them to promising ends
All`s inaudible, the towers
Once impregnable, are nonexistent
Temporarily, because we know
Of the constant effort and battle
Between heroes and villains
Constructing and destructing
Always entwined in the continuum
Of Ground Zero
Wednesday, September 15, 2004
Tuesday, September 14, 2004
The Truants Prose Suite
1. Going North
These faces have stories I wish to read
Behind me, a madman mumbles
Things I can’t fathom
Soon, he is a figment
And so am I, gone from the bus
I walk, blinded by the sun
But my hearing is keen, another person talking roundabout
With clothes unfit for her years
2. Only The Beginning
Two hours and I have come full circle
Resorting to manual transportation, to indulge in the beautiful day
The day feels impeccable, almost cinematic
A result of adolescent impulse
Cars whizz, trees sway, and the atmosphere is symphonic
So I find a tree to blind the sun, and enjoy the music
3. Looking For a Bus
I have begun to perspire and I am winded as I have finished walking up this steep, curved hill. The sun has continued its assault on my vision. I sit here pondering my route to my next safe area; as I am doing this, I am making the greatest attempt to not look suspect, as my height and skin tone may eventually put me at a disadvantage. So I must remain vigilant, yet not paranoid. Time sure drags when you’re on the lam.
4. Main Street
One of my objectives was to not spend a great deal of money. Alas, I am in a fast-food establishment spending money that could go toward the bus. No need to look at this as a negative, however. This allows me to experience this perfect day firsthand. A startling realization: there have been very few people in my midst as I have written this “vignette of a fugitive”. Before today, I never realized so much could be accomplished from a pedestrian perspective. I have surprisingly grown tired of this rest stop. I shall relieve myself and continue on my journey.
5. The Longest Leg
Damn, I thought I would never stop walking. I have managed to stop at 8th, 19th, 24th, 31st, and 45th streets, respectively. I am almost to my destination, wherever that may be. This trip, of sorts, has been more than being a fugitive; it’s about being free and living for a day. I have trekked through several spots where I was in danger of being recognized. But I was not. It seems that I have done a lot of contemplating about the past, things ranging from my sudden desire to have passion for something besides life to how I miss being a kid. Looking at this distorted glass, I see it as a visual representation of my life: distorted with a great deal of reflection. I see that, at this point in the journey, I have become more contemplative. Two more hours and the imaginary bounty which has fueled this expedition will have been rescinded. I have grown cold again due to lack of sunlight, the third such instance. It is time to carry on, or is it? I have no plan of action to get to my destination or do I? Maybe I’m just not aware of it. The wind is creeping up my shorts so I must carry on…
6. Doubts
For the first time, I am starting to have doubts about reaching my destination. My current fear is that I’ll be come so suspect, that I’ll be caught. Maybe I am doing too much thinking. Perhaps. All I am certain of is that I am almost there. But I fear by the time I get there, its purpose will be obsolete. Whatever may come of these next 105 minutes, I know this is a defining day in life. For one day, I have lived on my terms. Quite ironic I am by a school now. Hmm.
7. I Got Sad
It seems as if this has been the longest portion of the trip. My destination changed, just as I approached it. It was in clear view. This has been the most somber leg of the trek also. As I walked past the all-girls high school, a rush of melancholy energy ran through me. Most of this can be attributed to an old girlfriend, in which I have not the slightest of ideas why I felt the degree of sadness I felt. Throughout the day, there has been a lot of symbolism. The resting places have served as a literary depot, where I can chronicle my day’s experience as a truant-fugitive. As time is inching near to two o’clock, I sit back in amazement wondering how I conceived such a journey with the tremendous amount of spontaneity I did. As I sit, I am literally and figuratively a black dot on a white landscape. The blowing wind under a shaded park bench must be my signal to move on, and so I must. I have had a sufficient amount of time to express my observations and thoughts from my most recent stretch of walking. It is mind boggling how far I have walked since this morning. Moving along on the journey now…
8. The Fugitive Reflects
There comes a time in a truant’s day where he begins to reflect upon what would have been had he went to school; granted he is fortunate enough to reflect. Today, through this display of wit, endurance and sheer spontaneity, I have solidified my status as a master of the art of truancy. My feet are singing a tired song now; the song is long overdue, I must say. Home is getting closer. For some time now, I have the idea someone is looking for me. Here begins the march home.
9. Home
I have completed this time-consuming journey. Made it to every real truant’s destination: his home. Although my feet definitely aren’t, I am sad this had to end. This has been a day like no other. A city-spanning expedition on foot. The bounty has been rescinded. The end…
These faces have stories I wish to read
Behind me, a madman mumbles
Things I can’t fathom
Soon, he is a figment
And so am I, gone from the bus
I walk, blinded by the sun
But my hearing is keen, another person talking roundabout
With clothes unfit for her years
2. Only The Beginning
Two hours and I have come full circle
Resorting to manual transportation, to indulge in the beautiful day
The day feels impeccable, almost cinematic
A result of adolescent impulse
Cars whizz, trees sway, and the atmosphere is symphonic
So I find a tree to blind the sun, and enjoy the music
3. Looking For a Bus
I have begun to perspire and I am winded as I have finished walking up this steep, curved hill. The sun has continued its assault on my vision. I sit here pondering my route to my next safe area; as I am doing this, I am making the greatest attempt to not look suspect, as my height and skin tone may eventually put me at a disadvantage. So I must remain vigilant, yet not paranoid. Time sure drags when you’re on the lam.
4. Main Street
One of my objectives was to not spend a great deal of money. Alas, I am in a fast-food establishment spending money that could go toward the bus. No need to look at this as a negative, however. This allows me to experience this perfect day firsthand. A startling realization: there have been very few people in my midst as I have written this “vignette of a fugitive”. Before today, I never realized so much could be accomplished from a pedestrian perspective. I have surprisingly grown tired of this rest stop. I shall relieve myself and continue on my journey.
5. The Longest Leg
Damn, I thought I would never stop walking. I have managed to stop at 8th, 19th, 24th, 31st, and 45th streets, respectively. I am almost to my destination, wherever that may be. This trip, of sorts, has been more than being a fugitive; it’s about being free and living for a day. I have trekked through several spots where I was in danger of being recognized. But I was not. It seems that I have done a lot of contemplating about the past, things ranging from my sudden desire to have passion for something besides life to how I miss being a kid. Looking at this distorted glass, I see it as a visual representation of my life: distorted with a great deal of reflection. I see that, at this point in the journey, I have become more contemplative. Two more hours and the imaginary bounty which has fueled this expedition will have been rescinded. I have grown cold again due to lack of sunlight, the third such instance. It is time to carry on, or is it? I have no plan of action to get to my destination or do I? Maybe I’m just not aware of it. The wind is creeping up my shorts so I must carry on…
6. Doubts
For the first time, I am starting to have doubts about reaching my destination. My current fear is that I’ll be come so suspect, that I’ll be caught. Maybe I am doing too much thinking. Perhaps. All I am certain of is that I am almost there. But I fear by the time I get there, its purpose will be obsolete. Whatever may come of these next 105 minutes, I know this is a defining day in life. For one day, I have lived on my terms. Quite ironic I am by a school now. Hmm.
7. I Got Sad
It seems as if this has been the longest portion of the trip. My destination changed, just as I approached it. It was in clear view. This has been the most somber leg of the trek also. As I walked past the all-girls high school, a rush of melancholy energy ran through me. Most of this can be attributed to an old girlfriend, in which I have not the slightest of ideas why I felt the degree of sadness I felt. Throughout the day, there has been a lot of symbolism. The resting places have served as a literary depot, where I can chronicle my day’s experience as a truant-fugitive. As time is inching near to two o’clock, I sit back in amazement wondering how I conceived such a journey with the tremendous amount of spontaneity I did. As I sit, I am literally and figuratively a black dot on a white landscape. The blowing wind under a shaded park bench must be my signal to move on, and so I must. I have had a sufficient amount of time to express my observations and thoughts from my most recent stretch of walking. It is mind boggling how far I have walked since this morning. Moving along on the journey now…
8. The Fugitive Reflects
There comes a time in a truant’s day where he begins to reflect upon what would have been had he went to school; granted he is fortunate enough to reflect. Today, through this display of wit, endurance and sheer spontaneity, I have solidified my status as a master of the art of truancy. My feet are singing a tired song now; the song is long overdue, I must say. Home is getting closer. For some time now, I have the idea someone is looking for me. Here begins the march home.
9. Home
I have completed this time-consuming journey. Made it to every real truant’s destination: his home. Although my feet definitely aren’t, I am sad this had to end. This has been a day like no other. A city-spanning expedition on foot. The bounty has been rescinded. The end…
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