in the quiet

there is so much time to think, to hear all of the things that didn’t make noise before…

i’ve needed this quiet. the stillness in between damn bebe’s kids running around outside my window and the whirring of engines.

maybe i’m just a city driver type but that’s all i hear. engines. diesel engines. motorcycles revving. SUVs grinding over asphalt. sputtering and 9/11 coughing their way through the maze. always some kind of machine humming in my ear. today i drove a company cargo van and it rattled all the way home.

something is always reverberating.

to find a moment of actual quiet is intense, like hitting the gut peak on a ride. it’s the half second moment your mind connects to your body about what THE FUCK is actually happening and everything shiftssssssssss.

that’s the nature of this silence.

and maaan, i love it, need it but damn if it doesn’t make me feel antsy sometimes. truth: when have i not been antsy? when havei ever been able to stop biting the skin around my fingernails or not constantly checking something…all of the things must be checked.

wallet? check.

keys? check.

coffee pot off? check.

GPS? Inhaler? Phone? Locked the doors? Candles put out? What’s the work address again? You sure you locked the doors?

check. check. check. shit. can i live?

i only stop checking long enough to check out.

then comes french music, then comes a subway ride, then comes that awesome sleep that only 42nd street can interrupt…

then switch trains, get to work, get to rental place, get to gettingggggggggg

work is good. work pays bills. work puts you in the sunlight. in motion.

but it is the crib, your one and only space in the world

that puts you in the quiet

there is nowhere else worth being

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