…And now I’m sitting on the Gold Line again, where ‘the road’ first began. It’s raining, but the rain’s never been so harmless; it’s merely a subtlety through the pictures I’m moving through.
I just wrapped up a meeting with Jeremy, who I had another great conversation with. He and I have been able to talk a lot about our twenties. In terms of what they’ve seen and sounded like, what they’ve cost, and the different things they’ve afforded.
I’ve spoken to so many people now, to learn about so many different trajectories. At the end of it all, I can still only sympathize with them. But to do so is no small feat. In actuality, I have to work through the different versions of myself which want nothing but to ‘otherize’.
It is still such an everyday struggle; it is still an incredible test of patience.
It is also a test of my sense of inner peace. To sympathize with people, I have to really get past the walls of myself, and the walls are thick with resistance.
On the one hand, closing myself off from others is what gets me through a city as densely trafficked as Los Angeles. The act keeps me calm through so many boulevards of chaos to walk through, and helps me to look past all the different realities which defy rationality.
On the other hand, the walls are what shut me out from the world, even when it’s offering love and a sense of warmth to enjoy. In turn, they keep me cold, isolated, and ultimately alone.
It’s like a switch then, with the barriers I place between myself and the world. Sometimes, I get so caught up in surviving that I forget there’s a place where fences don’t need be put up. At home, fences aren’t necessary, even if they are. At home, the struggle with the city is over. Everything there, is over.
And now, through all the rain, it’s time to get home.
But before that, there’s the Red Line to get through…