I made hundreds of photocopies for some Macy's discount announcement at work today. the photocopier kept getting jammed. i opened and closed the paper door. it printed. it jammed. i opened and pulled the crumpled papers out. it printed. it jammed. it printed. sure enough it's a mule's work, and i just detached myself, mechanically went through the process and returned to my book. my mind was a thousand miles away, between the pages. i stood reading for almost two hours while the photocopier did its thing with occasional disruptions.
Rushed out of the office. starving. these days i eat a small breakfast and a big dinner. and by dinner time i wolf down anything edible in sight.
A blind man on the subway, black, bent, dried up like a piece of fruit under the sun. He sang "if you think i'm sexy and just reach out and touch me..." maybe it was meant to be funny but the corner of my mouth could only curve downwards. the subway went quiet. or maybe his voice was loud. a voice that caused discomfort, that demanded attention.
I'm disturbed and the initial desire is to block it all out. i'm tired after work, i do not need to be confronted with your misery. But out of pity or guilt, i know not, i dug into my purse and retrieved a meek 50 cents, held them ready in my hand. When he approached his collecting bucket was on the other side, away from me. too far. i hesitated. Hesitation turned into too late in a matter of seconds. The train stopped and he fumbled out, and i was still sitting there debating on whether to get up or not. The door closed. I stayed, quarters burning hot in my palm, damp with unwanted guilt.
This happens often, New York is filled with the homeless, the drunkard slumped on subway steps, the crippled begging for money. and people learn to tune them out and look away. but even when I turn away I see them at the corner of my eyes and feel even more uneasy. but giving them a dollar, a couple of quarters isn't really going to help. it's not a question of whether they deserve the dollar or not. with these people coming from nothing, it's only a matter of too little not too much. but it's not really going to help, that stupid dollar given to purchase an ease of mind.
i look at them. i avert my eyes. i look at myself. and i walk away and continue on with my life. laughing dryly at my hypocrisy. why should i feel responsible. but then what about this uneasiness?
Union square, young people, lots of young people in hip clothing carrying skateboards, guitars, shopping bags. The girl on my right pulled out a video camera and did a mock interview with her friends. I couldn't hear what they were saying. i was too interested in the camera. Wouldn't it be swell to own one? A South Indian couple sat down on the steps on my left. She was very pretty. very cheerful. and he kept kissing her. and i smiled when i think they'd never have suspected that i'd written their moment down. it was their moment. their spring of love.
A japanese boy, musician of some sort passed by. he looked at me sideways, through the corner of his eye, never once turning.
two dogs on a single leash, walking parallel.
Susie waved from across the square. made her way over and pounced on me.
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