Follow @covillanueva c.o. villanueva in time and space: going around something is the same as going through it

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

going around something is the same as going through it

I was lost in my thoughts of everything that has been happening with me & her recently, so I decided to go for a walk. It was 1:30 in the morning. It was raining. But I had my iPod.

I thought of walking to the 100 yen store, but I didn't want to carry anything back & I don't like window shopping. So I walked toward the station to see what was happening in my little neighborhood. I took my earplugs out. Something wasn't quite right with the Audioslave I had been listening to. I listened to the drops hit the pavement, the trees, the parked cars. It sounded like music so I put my iPod in my pocket.

I am aware that this feeling deep in my stomach is not from her at all. And this feeling is not bad, in fact it does feel bad & is the complete opposite of the feeling I told her about. Such is the duality of the ethereal.

Three men were standing outside of the hostess club. I did not look back at them & would not be affected by their eyes. I felt like crossing the street & began to walk my usual route. The late-night sports bar was open. I thought of going there another night. I turned down the street to the cantina. I didn't want to walk past the place we first had dinner. But the street I turned down was not the street to the cantina after all. I saw a park, & those dome-like things with metal bars I climbed on as a child.

I looked down a street to my left which ran parallel to the train tracks. I saw lights. I could smell ramen. It looked interesting. It was a street that I had wanted to walk down in the past. I crossed over & saw Jack's Inn Cantina.

This feeling is not me. It's not from her but I made it. It's pointing to me.

I passed an apartment building and saw light coming from a second-floor window. There were stuffed animals sitting on the window's ledge. There were at least ten.

I saw the owner turn over the CLOSED sign of the cantina. I looked at an apartment window in the distance: a woman's silouette closed curtains. I thought about non-resistance. I'm learning that it is one of the greatest things.

Sometimes going around something is the same as going through it.

That day she disappeared into the woods created a space in my life. I had wondered who would be next to fill it. Maybe it was the one I met today. The girl who kept wavering from my gaze, but kept searching for it again. I hoped so.

I heard what sounded like a bell. Then again. And again. It was the rain hitting something metal. It made music again. And then men's voices in the distance. Loud, arrogant, drunken. I looked at them but didn't want to see.

Then one said, "you drunken mother fucker" & grabbed & punched one of the other ones. The third one acted with weakness. He rested one arm on each as the one began the throw to the ground of the other one as I kept walking. They went out of view. I didn't hear this other one hit the ground.

I was close to the station & heard the bell sounds again. What would I see next? A convenience store & a couple walk in. I hopped over the railing to jaywalk across the street & thought about how good a tuna rice ball would taste at this moment.

But once inside I decided to buy a drink. The man blocked my path to the coolers. I walked back down the aisle to come up the other side. They were choosing chuhi's & giggling, lost in their moment.

I began to reach for a Coke Zero. I then remembered it was what she had with her that day. The girl's back blocked me & as I reached around anyway she moved forward.

Another one wearing a large gold necklace with alphabet pendants & a short skirt walked in as I was walking out. She looked like a hostess & was talking to someone on the phone. I could hear her say that she was also off today.

As I walked toward home the girl's strong perfume lingered with me & the night's soft music resumed.

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