May 26, 2007|
All my classes have ended, and today it felt like the noise and the rush had left me completely.
the noise and the rush that this society feeds us so we can feel productive so we can benefit it.
I went to the humane society today to do the dog class thing where we teach dogs to be good. I thought that perhaps class was canceled because there was just a small circle of people being swarmed by puppies. As I looked for a recognizable body, the head person motioned me to come in.
I had to put on a mailman suit. That wasn't fun, but then I got to sit down and the puppies were so fun. It was very mellow and didn't feel like work because we mostly just played with the things.
I went to fast food place, and ate their sandwiches which don't taste as fast foody as their other things, and I read over my music theory book a little bit. Then I played Zelda in the parking lot for a while, and I thought that maybe I should take a walk.
Zelda, for me, went hand in hand with my natural curiosity and quietness when I was a child. Playing video games didn't keep me indoors so much as it altered the way I interacted with nature. Playing through the foggy levels in Link to the Past made walking through the natural parts of my town cooler for me. I could pretend I was Link. Besides that, I just enjoyed the outdoors, and I enjoyed solitude and quiet.
As I grew older and wore more black, I would go through San Francisco with no destination in mind because I had no reason to have one. I didn't have a car. I was out of my art classes. So I explored. And when I'd take the subway back to Colma, I'd take off for the cemeteries, and wander in them. Or maybe I didn't go to the cemeteries, but I remember them being there, in my mind, tied to me. And I remember trying to lose my virginity in one.
Rain started to fall as I headed to return some things to some stores, and soon it was foggy, and I went to Ross, and I went to Aaron Brothers, and I thought back to those times where all I did was wander. And I was going through the excuses I've made over time, how cars are harder to deal with, and having a car makes it harder to just take off because you have to babysit it. You can't park in the Aaron Brothers parking lot and go to the nearby cemeteries; they might tow you. And you always have to have someone with you, to validate you, to validate the experience, to make things safe.
But I knew it was important, or I knew at least that it was something I wanted to do. I was playing the Batman Begins soundtrack, and it was rainy, and it was cold, and I knew it was right. So I started driving, and I felt the pull of safety, pulling me back home, and on my way back, I decided to go through some suburbs, and then I turned around, back toward the cemeteries, and then I kept driving, and I kept trying to make excuses not to stop, being unsure of how safe it was to park on the street, uncomfortable about how fast people were going behind me, unsure of whether I'd be kicked out of the cemeteries.
And then, as that Lexus kept going and going and going faster behind me and my anxiety heightened and I pulled over, parked in the closest available spot next to a pet cemetery, and I started walking down the road.
I walked in through a narrow entrance to another cemetery, and was instantly wrapped up in it again. I read about the lives, I thought about the flowers, I listened to all the sounds and it was very quiet, and eventually it felt like time must have stopped. Even the rain seemed to have subsided.
I was back in that place, that place I occupied as a child and then as a teenager, where I was alone and okay with it. I walked through the cemetery, and didn't feel like I had to rush anymore, and I didn't feel like my head was full anymore, and I didn't feel any anxiety anymore, and I felt at peace.
And, eventually, I returned, and the rain started up as I exited the gates, and the world kept moving.