Wednesday, May 18, 2005

Train Tracks

The night was meant for walking, and I strapped on my shoes. Spent the better part of an hour sitting at the Monona Terrace, feeling insignificant while underneath the expansive starscape and next to the lake. Sometimes it is comforting to feel part of something infinite. Your problems don't seem so big anymore, and it gets to where you almost feel as though you can laugh at their insignificance. I stuck up a conversation with a girl named Sabrina, don't really remember how. "We are all each other's guardian angels," I read somewhere, and I think she was one of mine. I can't get into it. Ask me about it some other time, when my brain is less full of quandaries. We said our goodbyes, and onwards I walked, further into the dark throat of night. I began along the train tracks heading east, but the uneven terrain caused my focus to be on my feet rather than my surroundings, so I opted for the bike path. Good news: large dirt hills are still as cool to climb now as they were when I was eight. It is equally still satisfying to hurl dirt clumps from the top of said hills, and watch with glee as they disintegrate against the walls of nearby buildings. I continued like this for a while, stopping here and there, content to walk, listen to music, and be alone. I felt like I had the world to myself. I was able to sing, and not feel like that crazy dude wandering around town shouting Kanye songs at the top of his cigarette-encrusted lungs. Clear thought ensued, mini-revelations might have been had. I almost stopped for a beer at the Brass Ring, but decided against it, figuring it'd just fuzz up whatever clarity I might've just gained, however brief it might've been. Ah, fleeting tranquility. It was nice while it lasted.

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