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July 07, 2004
It is quite possible that the small mind thinks about people, the average mind is occupied with events, while the more advanced thinkers explore ideas, but...

A very fragile looking jogger with a white plastic bag attached to her left arm just crossed 96th street. She passed by a woman in an aqua colored sari. Both of them moved in a synchronized trott, echoing the long distance clapping of the red hands of the street light. Clap, clap, clap, has replaced the don’t walk, don’t walk, don’t walk.
On the island between the landes on broadway, a couple is watching the thin traffic going downtown. I can only see their backs from here, but just the movements of their heads and upper bodies tell so much about their unhappiness…
He scans the surroundings now and then, then moves his body-weight over to her and kisses her, on neck, or mouth, or shoulder, or whatever she lets him kiss between the long pulls from her decoratively held cigarette. She now even moved the little white stick to her right hand, to the side where he sits. A few inches of a tabacco stuffed impenetrable barrier for him.
The bird like minimal ticks of her large head are a real contrast to his fluid, drunk moves of white shirt and neck.
Another man who shares the bench with them just asked the woman for a cigarette, I guess. The “boyfriend” replied, she just pointed the smoking stick at both and turned her head away as if in disgust.
A very tiny old woman in a completely pink outfit spent the last five minutes or so pulling herself up the stairs of the 96th street subway station. Her movements looked even older than her, and it was as if she listened to their transmission from a very far away place. Slow is a word too short to describe this incredibly difficult timing of her motion.
Two men in matching uniforms marked the concrete pavement of the north west corner with a bright green hose and are now turning it into a shiny, reflective, wet plane.
It is time to begin my day as well… though I feel very much reminded of a Franz Kafka quote, which makes me actually want to stay and listen to the subtle vibrations of the explosion unfolding in front of me in relaxed slow motion.

“It is not necessary that you leave the house. Remain at your table and listen. Do not even listen, only wait. Do not even wait, be wholly still and alone. The world will present itself to you for its unmasking, it can do no other, in ecstasy it will writhe at your feet.” Or something like that… Good morning….

Comments

crikey witold, you're an amazing writer!

Posted by: shauny on July 7, 2004 07:42 AM

you are too kind, shauny...

Posted by: Witold Riedel on July 7, 2004 07:57 AM

i love your text-snapshots of the city. love 'em.

and the kafka quote is beautiful... thank you.

Posted by: Christa Wessel on July 7, 2004 12:39 PM

: ) (thank you...)

Posted by: Witold Riedel on July 7, 2004 12:47 PM

Wonderful!

Posted by: satgean on July 7, 2004 01:34 PM

nice.

Posted by: 990000 on July 7, 2004 08:46 PM

i think i am the only invisible person you know

Posted by: on July 7, 2004 09:51 PM

i am sorry, i shouldn't visit or comment. i guess i am the ex horrible person everyone talks about

Posted by: on July 7, 2004 09:54 PM

i do not thank that there are any ex-horrible people here... and nobody talks about ex-horrible people...
I guess times change... and there are bright days and nights too... and they are just the shadow of the earth spinning around the sun. So no worries. all good...

Posted by: Witold Riedel on July 7, 2004 09:57 PM

now i just made everything i hope not too worse, i am sorry again, and will try to stop posting... i have had a difficult last few weeks. also, the old woman all in pink going very slowly...oh, she has a most beautiful secret for you, but you must be very kind to see it

Posted by: on July 7, 2004 10:09 PM

my brain is feeling a bit addled unfortunately
but wanted to say the kafka quote is beautiful and thank you, it truly helps

Posted by: on July 7, 2004 11:04 PM
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