A Dis/Illusory Rhythm
I got one last carrot juice at the deli on 125th, and said bye to the jedi master of juicers. He told me to come back soon and wished me a safe trip home. I was sad to leave after being in New York for so long. My stay got extended because of a small cold that spiralled into fever land, leaving me bed ridden for a few days. I ended up staying longer than planned, to get better and to reclaim my trip. Now it was time to say goodbye to a few loved ones and to the city.
The city with the strongest presence and the heaviest energy.
The city with stories oozing out of its rust, concrete and brick. Sewage and bridges. Backstreets and playgrounds.
The city of dis/illusions.
I took a cab to La Guardia. I was running late. For a minute, I hoped to miss my flight back home. But reality check squashed that wish in the roughest way. Must go home! Get back to your life! I got to the airport and scrambled out the cab, carrot juice in one hand and bags in the other. I turned around and nearly bumped into some guy. Tony Touch. I did a double take and almost spilled the juice on myself. He smiled, and I gave him an awkward look back, and continued on. Gotta go!
Amid the grime, bling and hustle of this city, I found incredible things. Things I forgot I was looking for. Things I forgot I needed. Things I wasn't even looking for. None of it tangible. All of it inside me.
Amid the dis/illusion I found space and solace.
An internal music.
And for the first time in a long while, I danced. For real.
Here’s to water towers on dilapidated buildings, mancu and eggs, bass sax players at 42nd station, and tripping all over myself in Spanish Harlem.
Here’s to dis/illusory moments. Because sometimes, clarity comes in the most unclear of spaces. And when you least expect it,
you find a forgotten rhythm.
I got one last carrot juice at the deli on 125th, and said bye to the jedi master of juicers. He told me to come back soon and wished me a safe trip home. I was sad to leave after being in New York for so long. My stay got extended because of a small cold that spiralled into fever land, leaving me bed ridden for a few days. I ended up staying longer than planned, to get better and to reclaim my trip. Now it was time to say goodbye to a few loved ones and to the city.
The city with the strongest presence and the heaviest energy.
The city with stories oozing out of its rust, concrete and brick. Sewage and bridges. Backstreets and playgrounds.
The city of dis/illusions.
I took a cab to La Guardia. I was running late. For a minute, I hoped to miss my flight back home. But reality check squashed that wish in the roughest way. Must go home! Get back to your life! I got to the airport and scrambled out the cab, carrot juice in one hand and bags in the other. I turned around and nearly bumped into some guy. Tony Touch. I did a double take and almost spilled the juice on myself. He smiled, and I gave him an awkward look back, and continued on. Gotta go!
Amid the grime, bling and hustle of this city, I found incredible things. Things I forgot I was looking for. Things I forgot I needed. Things I wasn't even looking for. None of it tangible. All of it inside me.
Amid the dis/illusion I found space and solace.
An internal music.
And for the first time in a long while, I danced. For real.
Here’s to water towers on dilapidated buildings, mancu and eggs, bass sax players at 42nd station, and tripping all over myself in Spanish Harlem.
Here’s to dis/illusory moments. Because sometimes, clarity comes in the most unclear of spaces. And when you least expect it,
you find a forgotten rhythm.
posted by pomegranate queen at 3/24/2008
2 Comments:
i love this. it's got a beautiful rhythm to it.
so happy to have been a brief part of your stay here <3
"The city with stories oozing out of its rust"
I like that line. Yes, New York can make it hard for some to leave its hold, can't it? Great city, glad I lived there, but even gladder that I don't anymore. Sorry to hear that you were sick. Glad to hear that you are better.
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