amateur gypsy (wystel) wrote,
amateur gypsy
wystel

i am utterly terrified of losing the world i learned to love through my eyes. i'm not sure i'd know what beauty was. or where the world begins and ends. or how i'd take care of myself. or if i'd want to live. these events make a person try to get philosophical, to say, for example, the best poets were blind. but what about all the hobbling crippled, the

^ unfinished. better that way. my eye isn't better, but i'm getting used to it.

today i went to the mall. well, not exactly the mall. i went for a bike ride downtown. the sun blazed. people roasted meat and lumbered about in swimsuits. chicago summer.

i paused in the mall. i hate malls (long documented here and elsewhere). i don't know what i was thinking. i tried on clothes that didn't fit and that i couldn't afford. i had enough and stepped out. there was a woman sitting on the sidewalk. there was someone with blood on his shirt. there were firetrucks and police cars and a large crowd gathered there. i stepped back. i didn't want to know.

rain came down.

i stood with my bicycle under the awning of a restaurant, then an art gallery.

rain. i phoned my sister.

when it started to thin, i headed out. a clear road. spare drops falling, at times in cascades, in the underpass. people sparsely arranged. cars sending sheets of water into the air. the sky both bright and dark. a rainbow arcing over the lake, white boats on dark water, seagulls flying low. the quiet of evening, of looking.
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