Follow @covillanueva miló omaña in time and space: my relationship to the present

Saturday, April 18, 2009

my relationship to the present

I have been thinking about this constantly since reading it last night. After I read it, I decided to get off my ass & go for a walk.

I walked my usual route, past the station. It was Friday night. Many people were out getting drunk. I took a turn down a street I'd never been down. I looked in a little place calling itself a cantina. A girl inside, facing the glass door so we caught eyes, threw a dart while lifting up her leg. Another girl sat at the bar with her back to the door. I glanced at the menu. Beer ¥470. Not tonight, keep walking buddy.

I walked under the Higashiyama train line & took a right turn at the corner. I thought about my relationship to the present. "I am walking," I thought. How much simpler does it get? Movement through space. That is how I anchor myself in the present.

I took a left turn and headed towards Max Value. Three girls walked by me. The one closest to me stared into my eyes & grabbed a big lock of her hair. Keep walking buddy.

I saw the cashier who checked me out earlier, when I bought two chicken breasts & some mackeral fillets for ¥555. She was sweeping the entranceway now, getting ready to close. Up ahead I noticed three girls, two of which were propping each other up as they walked. They walked slowly. Both wore short skirts. I came to a red light & crossed to the other side. Three young guys in suits with crazy hair, smoking cigarettes, were laughing & pointing at the girls stumbling on the other side. One of the guys came inches of bumping into me. He was trying to create space. I walked on.

I saw three more guys outside of a bar. One was standing up drinking a pitcher of beer. The other two were crumpled over with the white sticks drooping from their mouths, their eyes expressionless. A bike nearly hit me. The bar was full of large groups of college students. I saw a girl take a long drag. The energy was Japanese. Drunken, young, confined, Japan.

There's a pressure here & you'll feel it once you step off the plane. Even if people get drunk, they do so in a structured way. There's always someone to prop you up when you walk home.

I turned onto my street & everything got quiet. I looked at the houses, their sculptured hedges, lights on in the windows. Two bricks tied together with a string sitting on the sidewalk. I walked on.

No comments:

Post a Comment