… and the world is often too much with me late and soon …<\/p>\n
I get in my car, loaded up with a thermos of coffee, a bottle of water, maybe some carrot sticks (you know, South Beach), or unsalted pistachio nuts … and go to a certain parking lot along the Hudson River, a lot which is usually empty. It’s not up on the cliff, it’s on river-level – so you could step right into the Hudson should you feel so inclined. I like to go there when it’s raining. I park my car, plug in my iPod, maybe bring a book – under the illusion that I will be able to read – or my writing – under the illusion that I will be able to write – and sit there for hours. Staring out my windshield, through the rain, at the grey Hudson and the mirage of Manhattan on the other side. It sometimes takes me an hour or so to “let the world go”. I blank out, I time-travel, I enter the dreamspace completely. The music (I’m all Everclear now, all the time) infiltrates, and I lift up out of the muck, and float … sometimes dipping down into memories, sometimes remaining detached, but looking on … with fondly, no bitterness. But then sometimes bitterness comes, and I work on imagining myself out of it. Or I’ll cry, head in hands. And then the music helps lift me out again.<\/p>\n
I’m unable to go through all of this stuff at home.<\/p>\n
So when I know I need it … I pack up my car and off I go.<\/p>\n
I’ll be crushed if that parking lot starts being used on a regular basis by a large group of people. I couldn’t go where I need to go if my car was hemmed in on all sides. As of now, the lot is next to an empty building, waiting to be filled with new tenants (good luck with that). I love that spot.<\/p>\n
I’ve been doing this a lot lately. Sometimes I wake up at 6 in the morning and drive to my parking lot, after picking up a giant Dunkin Donuts coffee.<\/p>\n
If you need me, I’ll be in the only car in that one random rainy parking lot.<\/p>\n
But only knock on my window if you really need me. Because it might not look like it … it might look like I’m just sitting there not doing anything … but believe me … I am doing a lot. It’s hard work.<\/p>\n
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… and the world is often too much with me late and soon … I get in my car, loaded up with a thermos of coffee, a bottle of water, maybe some carrot sticks (you know, South Beach), or unsalted … Continue reading