Warping: 06 de agosto de 2015

Warping:

Today I woke at 7:40 after sleeping badly due to nervous jitterbugs jumpin’ my stomach muscles like mini trampolines bouncing. I had mi mochila grande, mi mochila verde, la jaula de la Chiqi, a bag of food and the traveling cat bag stuffed with a couple sweaters, plus Raúl’s saco de dormir y la carpa.

I didn’t organize everything on my little hand cart very well, but at first it didn’t matter because I got a ride with a guy that works at the park, so I didn’t have to walk all the way to the bus stop with all my stuff. As I was leaving the campsite he asked me, “¿Adónde vas?” He gave me a ride, and after he parked the car next to my bus stop he asked me, “¿Fumas marihuana?”

Yo digo, “Uh, sí” (obvio, po) and I barely utter the words and he’s passing me a green cigarette, from his own plants at home. He shows me a mason jar full of flowers, his own harvest.

I smoked half before I got on the bus, and I felt instantly weaker in my whole body, as if I had waited too long to eat and felt listless and unable to focus. A fast pulse, a rapidly drying mouth, and chapped lips, although I was drinking a lot of water.

I imagined every movement I made was manifested by, or a manifestation of, any personal insecurities, so I tried to breathe deeply and steadily. I tried to think of absolutely nothing. Because whatever we are always thinking is so unimportant. I feel like we could teach ourselves to think of new stories and emotions. I want what we think to be in rhyme and without rhythm, en poesía abstracta.

On the bus I let go of the cart with at least 3 bags stacked on it, with Chiqi’s cage on the bottom, for barely a second before the driver slammed on his breaks. The cart slid forward and toppled over, all the bags falling into the lowered space in front of the back door. Chiqi’s cage did at least 3 flips in the air. It seemed to me that she didn’t spin at all, only hovered in midair like in a slow motion jump, while the cage turned around her.

Everyone in the bus turned to stare at my wide, high eyes, some gasping, their own eyes widening. I scurried to pick everything up and started organizing it again on the cart, but more secure this time, paranoid everyone was still watching me.

A poor family with a bunch of kids got on, all covered in dust and dirt, but laughing and arguing, free flowing thought spouting from their mouths, no filter. The mom was silent, with nothing to say, only wagging an ignored finger at her unruly children, who began to spill out what misspoken English they could think of to get my attention. I told them I wouldn’t speak English because I wanted to practice my Spanish. I chatted a bit with the mom when we got off the bus, and then we parted ways, off to vastly different lives, our minds balancing thoughts and ideas in distinct perspective-planes.

I took a taxi to Senasa, to get Chiqi’s documents, even though it was only two blocks away because all my shit was just too heavy. Even though I had secured it as best as I could, as stable as I could, it was still wobbly. Still too much shit for one person to carry, even with a homeless lady hand cart.

I was still a little high when I went to Senasa. I got the feeling that my body was made out of sex again, some guys just look at me with a particular type of shiny eyes, and it makes me feel all sorts of strange things. First I think, omg creepy. Then astonishment at the idea that I am an attractive woman, then that I am too cool for school and way too cool and awesome for the creepy guy admiring me. Then bleh, so old, wtf? Then I think omg taken, sort of, by someone way more attractive than you. The guy at Senasa did everything I could possibly want to smooth things out, just too nice, too willing.

I want to know what you’re thinking about while you’re waiting in line at the airport, at the bank, at the supermercado. If you keep a silent mind, how do you feel? Do you feel calmer? Or do you feel more complacent?

I feel like a past friend assumed the complacency side is the truth about people now. But I disagree, I feel I want to become one with my thoughts, I want to cultivate them and harvest them so that I can feel them all the way through. I want to feel calmness while enveloped in my thoughts. I want ideas crammed with creation, positivity, energy.