Thursday, September 23, 2010
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Gypsy; Nomad; Vagrant
Four extra seats, for the hitchhikers I'd like to pick up. I think of all the people I could have taken places, all the stories I could have heard.
Fifty extra dollars that I didn't spend on extravagant meals. Instead, I went to the grocery store and had broccoli with alfredo sauce for dinner and raspberries for dessert. I think of the people I could've met at a bar, the people I could have fed.
Three extra beds, three nights in a row, waiting to be slept in. I curled into a ball like I always do (bad for your back) and left the other side of the bed untouched, the bed across from me unruffled. I think of some of the places I've slept in my life. I would've killed for that empty bed across from me.
I don't mind traveling alone. I am, by nature, a private person. I like to do things on my own, in my own way. Even though these are not the places I dream about seeing, they are something new.
I'm not used to having all of these resources at my disposal. Somehow it seems wasteful, like I should be sharing it with people that need seats and dollars and beds. Just give me a little bed, a nightstand with a lamp and a book. I realize that I could not easily transition into a life of frivolity.
(I think of how you can always clean the slate, always start a new life. It's unsettling and comforting to see how possible it is.)
Fifty extra dollars that I didn't spend on extravagant meals. Instead, I went to the grocery store and had broccoli with alfredo sauce for dinner and raspberries for dessert. I think of the people I could've met at a bar, the people I could have fed.
Three extra beds, three nights in a row, waiting to be slept in. I curled into a ball like I always do (bad for your back) and left the other side of the bed untouched, the bed across from me unruffled. I think of some of the places I've slept in my life. I would've killed for that empty bed across from me.
I don't mind traveling alone. I am, by nature, a private person. I like to do things on my own, in my own way. Even though these are not the places I dream about seeing, they are something new.
I'm not used to having all of these resources at my disposal. Somehow it seems wasteful, like I should be sharing it with people that need seats and dollars and beds. Just give me a little bed, a nightstand with a lamp and a book. I realize that I could not easily transition into a life of frivolity.
(I think of how you can always clean the slate, always start a new life. It's unsettling and comforting to see how possible it is.)
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