Since I am not busy at work today I decided to blog surf. And did I ever. I feel like I have been sucked into this whole world of micro domains, each one a parallel dimension, all coexisting at the same time. All interlacing, somehow crossing paths at one time or another...so many to read, so little time. Actually, that's not true. Today it seems I've got nothing but time. All of my guys are out.
I'm glad this workday is almost over. Honestly, I like my job as much as I am going to like any job where I have to work 9:30 to 5:30 for someone other than myself. Nobody bothers me. (Unlike at KK with the crazy fascist administration and the lunatics who made it all possible). It's a nice environment here. I don't have to sit in a cubicle or anything resembling a cubicle. I can look out the window from my desk on the 24th floor and see the city spread out before me, which always gives me this strange wistful feeling, especially on a really quiet day or if a song comes on that makes me feel nostalgic. I like that feeling. It seems almost tangible enough that I could fold it up and put it in my pocket.
I love to lose myself staring off into the city. Trying to glimpse the smallest details. Things often look more mysterious and magical when viewed from above. It is hard to describe what I feel when I look out at New York, but I think it's awe. Or maybe it's a certain sense of pride. To think that I am here and that I'm surviving in one of the biggest and most exciting cities, that I leapt out of the nest and flew with all my might and I landed on my feet! (I had help)... I also feel kind of sad when I look out at all of those buildings and the patch of Central Park and when I look straight down at all the people and cars and street vendors...all the silent action below...I feel sort of sad because I think of my family back home and my friends. I think of Oregon, how fresh and wholesome it feels to be there, in the nature, far away from tall buildings and cab drivers and hilal food stands and grumpy commuters and high fashion. Where there are many, many trees and acres and acres of open field and road. And memories abound. Parties and secrets and rumors and love and hate and violence and laughter and goodness and badness... and... a whole crazy life that is vastly distant now. Isn't it funny when you want so badly to change and progress in life, and you finally reach that next destination that you were gravitating yourself toward, how you often miss that which you've left behind? Even if you are kind of glad? There is so much that I miss. Yet still just as much that I am greatful to forget.
Right now I am listening to the Pixies "Where is My Mind?" I love Frank Black. Nobody in the whole world has a voice like him. I like in "This Monkey's Gone To Heaven" at the end when he screams "If Man is five, then the devil is six, the devil is six, and God is seven, GOD IS SEVEN!!!" IF THE DEVIL IS SIX, THEN GOD IS SEVEN! This monkey's gone to heaven. He comes to this great passionate crescendo when he shouts that over and over. It's so spectacular. I love it.
Posted by Maria at May 19, 2003 03:55 PM | TrackBack