Going Nowhere

Always mobile, don’t sit around, don’t watch TV, don‘t waste 2 hours on a movie. Mind moves with books, writing, playing music. Body moves, running, lifting, biking. At work, pull and shove. Structure the day around movement, going- mental and physical. Bound to nothing, mind and body are free, and complement each other. Movement can solve any problem, work can help figure things out. Sweat it out, get moving, Don’t stop, don’t want to.
Then I have to. I’m cut, and cut from the easy answer of movement. It could solve all my problems, now it is gone. No moving, that will only make it worse. But my mind is cloudy and racing- it won’t stop. How do I tell it to stop, how do I control it, release it? I chose not to do it this way, I chose my way. But now my mind needs my body to solve the problem and it isn’t getting any help. I’m pinned to my bed, to my chair. My body gets weaker because it can’t move. My energy, the energy I created, has nowhere to go, it can’t be released. No sweating, no moving. I’m going nowhere. And it stays, has nowhere to go. It goes to my head.

A Testing

Sun glinting off the heavy steel- the wheels churn headlong into the looming fog.
A testing comes no matter what path you choose; But this path was laid long ago. I bought the ticket and will ride it to the end of the line. It’s where I live.

Industrious Circles

On the wheels of the car, to the train, to the streets, wheels whizzing by, the L train clanking and roaring up above. Check out the streets of Chicago with Mom, looking at the architecture, looking for something to eat. Nice to just walk around a city I know, never really knew. Talk to the lady from Austin, off down Michigan Avenue. Pass the museums, to the Cultural center. First library of Chicago, iridescent light fills the minds of people, tiles and stained glass shining through the building. Outside, hop a cab, Soldier’s field an alien ship now, lake to the left, steely Chicago light everywhere, to Hyde Park, Barak’s neighborhood, cab driver says his house is off on 55th. We’re going to see the Science and Industry, like an old field trip. I could be on a big yellow bus when we pull up. Get inside, tool around the museum for a little. Train wheels, DNA strands and other industrious circles. Walk back out through Hyde Park, Mom and I imagine Barak as a student, as a teacher. See a bbq and bakery shop. Head in, looks closed, old man tells us it’s open, come on in. Warm smile, nobody inside, can we get coffee and a treat? Owner makes us fresh coffee and we talk to Sam. He’s 82 next month and celebrating early with a drink. So am I, we all have a laugh or two and I buy Sam a birthday drink. He says come around next month to celebrate our birthdays. I say I’ll check on you when you’re 92. Walk through the typical bitter wind of Chicago for a few minutes and hop another cab. Man doesn’t think Blago will be convicted, we joke about politics and Chicago. Wasn’t born here, but he’s been here for 32 years. I speak the language, but he’s been here for as long as I’ve been alive. He laughs, he chuckles about everything, even while serious. It is funny. See ya, hop the train, leaves on time. Ride the wheels back home, checking out the familiar accent of the people that I don’t know anymore, never really knew.