- (no subject)
- September 8th, 2011
Sometimes the walls seem like they're closing in. Pneumatic arms pushing against sheet rock panels, making everything shrink down to a miniscule size.
I am reminded of my briefcase with its hidden camera and boom mic and the weird limited perspective it provides. I use it to document my travels, of my trespasses through the world of barriers. Of buildings long closed down, of military bases patrolled by crew cut muscular types with one hand on the butt of a rifle (or shotgun) and the other holding up the barrel guard. I wear a suit. Conservative. A tie, nothing fancy. And shoes, Italian looking with rubber soles. A man with a will, stern face, and a slight hint of a smile can get anywhere, through everything, with a thorough head on his shoulders as his only true ally. Even the guard dogs respect this. Probably because they sense emotion better than any one man.
I step off the train. Not too sure where I am yet. Slept on the floor of the bathroom of this cold Amtrak train. An "Out of Order" sign signifying that I am not to be disturbed.
Rain. Was it raining or did it just start? The ground beneath the train is proper soaked. Must be some sort of storm. I lack an umbrella. Oh, well. It is time to get wet. I can't stand on the station platform for too long.
I hear it again. A whistling screech between my ears. It's not tinitus or, at least, I don't think it is. It means something but I don't know what yet. I may never know. That is something I must acknowledge.
I must walk on. A cab driver hails me. I tell him I'd love to but I can't afford the ride. He points accusingly at my briefcase and suit. I shrug. I'm acting the stereotype, I'm not living it. The water in my shoed goes squish squish but I walk on.
I pass by a hookah bar. The lights are off. It is closed. The door is locked.
I step inside. Taking my shoes off I lay the briefcase on the floor and lay down using it as a pillow. I will rest for now. I will wait out the storm. I will record more later. But for now? For now I'm dead to the world. Goodbye.
Thunder crashes somewhere outside.