Alright. I've just been posting poetry on here but I feel like I should break out of the routine and post something different [AAAAAH, DIFFERENCE]. Yes. Different.
Today, my friend and I decided to take a trip to the Modern Art Museum in Fort Worth. Upon deciding to travel to Fort Worth, we came to the conclusion that we wished to ride the DART train there.
We missed the 12:30 train. No problem. We got on the 12:45 train.
We arrived at our transfer station (at 1:30) and were unpleasantly surprised by the departure time of the next train...3 o clock. This news was very upsetting.
I suddenly felt a strong desire to kick an ugly pigeon, but then I remembered the story about the man who went to jail for stomping a pigeon to death...so I resisted the urge.
(I'm not really a violent person, weird ideas just pop into my head at random times)
Ergo, exploring ensued. We scuffled around downtown Dallas and ate some BBQ and watched some college students interview and film the regulars in West End.
We hopped onto our 3 o clock train and sat across from a somewhat crazy woman.
[It was quite sad, actually. She was apparently homeless and alone and not completely sane. She told us a lot of different stories and, eventually, I stopped listening and started looking, watching.
Her eyes spoke of unrest and of loneliness and of pain. No peace. No love.
Sitting there, listening to her, made me realize (even more then I already had realized) how comfortable I was. I have a home and a job and I go to school....hell, receiving a low grade on a paper is a bad day for me. Not being able to eat is a bad day for her.
It was one of those moments where reality is suspended and the picture suddenly gets bigger, the screen widening and the vision focusing.
I learned something today that no professor could ever teach me.]
After getting off the train, we attempted to speed-walk to the museum but could not make it there in time.
SO we hopped back onto the returning train and made our way back to Dallas.
I was a bit sad that I did not get to wonder at the paintings of Lichtenstein, Rothko, Warhol, Pollock, etc. BUT it was a very interesting and eye-opening (and random) day.
I love exploring (especially exploring the city of London...but that's another story)
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
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2 comments:
Thanks for looking at my blog - yours looks fun! Years ago in my hometown there used to be a homeless bloke who wore a long trenchcoat and would walk through the subways banging the walls with a walking stick and yelling "Up the bee-gees, up the bee-gees" in a heavy Irish accent. At least that's what i think he said - who knows, maybe Saturday Night Fevour saved his life?
Traveling on the train and walking through Manhattan, I come across quite a few homeless people in all kinds of appearances. I've had that picturing-widening moment that you had a long time ago, and I'm also constantly saddened that there's only so much that I could do about it.
Thank God you didn't hit a pigeon!!!!
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