half of 109th, 108th, 107th, 106th, 105th, 104th
5.02 miles
let’s start with the sights of today, most of which were people: i saw a hunchbacked elderly gentleman, with floppy silver hair and a writerly brown scarf, in an autumnal cream sweater and rust-colored pants; a young girl wearing a glittering gold skirt and a red shirt a panda on it, outfit complete with stylish socks and doc martens; a little boy who, to the best of my own observation, was pretending to eat a giant turkey leg as he walked along the sidewalk; multiple groups of men sitting on street corners, smoking, staring (4pm on a wednesday afternoon); the pottery store where i once saw mariska hargitay; my old abode; the couple who lives underneath the scaffolding on riverside near my apartment— they have a glass of seashells to the left of the bed; and lastly, a young toddler running in front of her mother in the crosswalk.
i hit a wall today, or rather this week. it was inevitable maybe; it’s the fourth week of school. i’ve been hyper focused and on top of things for the most part, or at least compared to where i was this summer. but this week i found myself lying on my bed more often, going to the store at 11pm to buy some oreos, never a good sign (sorry, mom).
today i woke up early, i put on jeans, i went to the library— and i could not bring myself to work. i could not focus. i could recognize the privilege i had to simply spend a wednesday morning reading and learning things (or perhaps i only recognize it now), and yet my brain, my hands, they did not want to move.
i went home and took a nap, waking up every ten minutes or so to turn off the alarms i kept setting, each time saying it would be the last one.
i called my friend who is six hours ahead in germany, and decided to put on my sneakers and walk. we laughed loudly together and i was probably shouting as i passed people on the sidewalks. it was a good walk, even though my headphones were in my ears this time around. at said friend’s recommendation, i listened to the podcast the anthropocene, reviewed for the last bit of my walk:
At the end of his life, the great picture book author Maurice Sendak said on the NPR interview show Fresh Air, “I cry a lot, because I miss people. I cry a lot because they die and I can’t stop them. They leave me and I love them more,” he said, “I’m finding out as I’m aging that I’m in love with the world.”
my brain is still a little fuzzy. i am listening to i gotta find peace of mind by ms. lauryn hill and casimir pulaski day by sufjan stevens, and i am watching the sun go down. i didn’t write too much about the walk itself today.. it’s the upper west side ish, pretty residential, nothing crazy exciting. it is funny how many miles one can walk while staying in a single square mile.