Such catharsis is induced - walking home in the rain. Solitude is not a curse if it's just for a mere hour on foot and you're blessed with the gadget to suit every mood, whim or fancy - the ipod touch.
Breeze has an affinity for perspiration and a meditative disposition.
I'm deluded into thinking that i'm traversing the labyrinthine streets of New York City again, albeit its clinical grid mapped/7th wonder of the world in terms of urban planning. God bless the Manhattan street grid system!
Humid as it may be, all you need for a long walk home is your friend the ipod and a pensive mood - fertile grounds for cyclical thought and the glorious hope of an epiphany or some sort of rapturous revelation. (Though someone special to walk you home won't hurt one bit.)
There is a delightfully jarring juxtaposition between the sublime tunes of post rock that caress my ear drum cavity and the nauseating sight that i behold during my walk back home. Garish Christmas lights and the hint of the techno remix of jingle fucking bells that somehow managed to sneak through my seinheisser ear piece. How sneaky. This place can be vast strawberry fields, only if you want it to be.
Blank, anonymous faces with kaleidoscope eyes whiz pass me. Oh the transience...
Hello strangers. They know not what I'm thinking, and that pleases me.
And thus, i become, (yet again), an exhibitionist of my thoughts and emotions in the elusive and faceless world of cyberspace
Be not forgetful to entertain strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares ( Hebrews 13:2 )
Hello strangers.Hello Angels. I'm still walking through Ghosts
Music: Radio Protector by 65 days of Static
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