When I think of my life, what word jumps out at me? I live in a city which is fun. Lets chronicle that fun. Lets chronicle these ups and these downs, lets remember the past and lets believe in a brighter future. I think I’m interested in writing again, and that has to be good.
I've been working for three days straight. It’s a musical this time and my crew seems to be having a party over the walkie-talkie airwaves. I’m at my desk, ignoring their fun and their gossip; I really don’t care as long as they get the job done. My mind is spiraling with frenetic activity, existing all at once in 3 or 4 different realities. I think it’s the excess junkfood, the tea and the cigarettes. So many thoughts...so many, spiralling thoughts...
Lets do a review of my life in this claustrophobic city so far.
Or perhaps I should start with a description of the city itself.
This is a city of mirrors. Shining surfaces. I see my face wherever I turn- reflected on the doors of the subway, on the glass panes of the tall buildings, on the cab windows, on my desktop monitor, in the sad eyes of the people I meet, even on their shiny shoes and their sparkling jewellery. Life mirrors as well, the same events, the same places and the same people. They're everywhere, like ghosts from the past or apparitions from the future. And time flows like a river here; you cant distinguish one moment from the next. Not because of the lack of change, but because of the sheer, mind numbing rapidity of it- the clutter of events- every one of them trivial, devoid of real hardship, cushioned in temperature controlled comfort that is warm only in the company of good friends. And thankfully, I have friends.
I have grown up quite a bit in this city. Amazingly, I’m still not sour. I still lie down in public spaces and watch the clouds float by. I still stop to smell the flowers on my way to work. No success of maturity there.
But I am hungry. That’s another things about this city- this unbelievably rich city is so impoverished of real life, papered from wall to wall with endless reams of rules and proprieties that paper it from wall to wall. So here we all wander, delirious from all that instant gratification, sinking in stability, fattened with pleasure, hungry as hell, starving in paradise. What does a girl have to do for some chaos?
But I would never say that I’m not happy here. I enjoy the safety, the invisible security blanket that’s thrown over all of us, the omnipotent ‘father’ watching over us, benevolently letting us be so naughty, but not so naughty, as to be a hazard to our selves (and his power). A false move and out, banished turned away from the Garden of Eden forever. I’m sniggering as I write this. Did I mention that its a church musical?
I've been working for three days straight. It’s a musical this time and my crew seems to be having a party over the walkie-talkie airwaves. I’m at my desk, ignoring their fun and their gossip; I really don’t care as long as they get the job done. My mind is spiraling with frenetic activity, existing all at once in 3 or 4 different realities. I think it’s the excess junkfood, the tea and the cigarettes. So many thoughts...so many, spiralling thoughts...
Lets do a review of my life in this claustrophobic city so far.
Or perhaps I should start with a description of the city itself.
This is a city of mirrors. Shining surfaces. I see my face wherever I turn- reflected on the doors of the subway, on the glass panes of the tall buildings, on the cab windows, on my desktop monitor, in the sad eyes of the people I meet, even on their shiny shoes and their sparkling jewellery. Life mirrors as well, the same events, the same places and the same people. They're everywhere, like ghosts from the past or apparitions from the future. And time flows like a river here; you cant distinguish one moment from the next. Not because of the lack of change, but because of the sheer, mind numbing rapidity of it- the clutter of events- every one of them trivial, devoid of real hardship, cushioned in temperature controlled comfort that is warm only in the company of good friends. And thankfully, I have friends.
I have grown up quite a bit in this city. Amazingly, I’m still not sour. I still lie down in public spaces and watch the clouds float by. I still stop to smell the flowers on my way to work. No success of maturity there.
But I am hungry. That’s another things about this city- this unbelievably rich city is so impoverished of real life, papered from wall to wall with endless reams of rules and proprieties that paper it from wall to wall. So here we all wander, delirious from all that instant gratification, sinking in stability, fattened with pleasure, hungry as hell, starving in paradise. What does a girl have to do for some chaos?
But I would never say that I’m not happy here. I enjoy the safety, the invisible security blanket that’s thrown over all of us, the omnipotent ‘father’ watching over us, benevolently letting us be so naughty, but not so naughty, as to be a hazard to our selves (and his power). A false move and out, banished turned away from the Garden of Eden forever. I’m sniggering as I write this. Did I mention that its a church musical?
lol
ReplyDeletecity of mirrors - very apt!
ReplyDelete:)
ReplyDeleteunderstood
ReplyDeleteha :D
ReplyDelete