I went to Gabe’s today. Here’s the deal. Faygo is from Detroit, and people from Detroit call pop “pop.” What the FUCK, Faygo?! I walked to gabes early in the morning hoping to buy a Diet Rock n Rye, remembering high school summers, but it wasn’t available. I still had a little bit of nostalgia walking back through the neighbourhood I roamed as a kid. Soon after, I was killing time on a bicycle, and stopped by a couple of dollar stores. I eventually spent most of the day out and around doing nothing, riding my bicycle. Near twilight, I was searching for a place to sit and just listen to Catching Fire, like I did in Luxembourg, and like I did as a 10 year old kid. I used to just ride my bike somewhere and sit and think.
I used to often imagine I was alone, in the woods. Waldansamkeit or whatever is a feeling I’ve never felt. It’s more like waldohneleutenliebe. I read about Frodo and Sam camping out while still in the shire, and that dumb fox who talks for no goddamn reason in FOTR. It’s something I like, and something I desire. In Aruba, I often just sat on the beach alone. The only problem is, I wasn’t alone. There were hundreds of people there with me. During a trip to Maine, and there are pictures of this somewhere, I climbed a cliff and sat there doing nothing, maybe listening to Styx on my $20 Koss headphones, maybe just watching the water, that part I don’t remember very well, but I do remember relishing the alone time, no one near me.
In Luxembourg, I’d find a bench. It would snow, and I’d sit and watch the sleepy city at midnight. Fire and Ice, the bar, would close, and a few patrons would walk by across the bridge on the alzette to a night bus in clausen. Then, nothing. It was me and the thousand year old city all to myself. I loved it. I did not, however, love doing that as much as I did when I was a kid. Sometimes I’d walk across the street and sit behind the tree so I was out of the view of the front yard of my house, and at the very remote back yard of a neighbour, so I felt alone. Sometimes I’d ride into the woods and sit there. I don’t remember what I’d do or think about, other than the premise that I forced into my head, that I was alone and independent, hanging out there.
As a 22 year old, though, I had issues with going somewhere and just sitting. There are a few places I could do it, sure, but none that wouldn’t invite too much awareness on my part that I wasn’t alone, just faking it. At some point, I rode home and sat on the glider.