It doesn’t make any sense to me how even after being confined in a cell I can still feel boxed in. These places, these spaces, the same 4 fucking walls and not a single giant meadow sight. It’s difficult for me, most of the time I don’t like to be out and about, I do enjoy my activity but I quite enjoy the steady eb and flow of my desk chair leaning. I think it’s the past couple days that have been especially difficult because after a very long time, nearly 18 months, I went back to a place that holds more memories for me than any person would be comfortable exposing themselves to.
It’s close my university, well it’s about an 8 kilometers of a climb away but well. My old work partner and best friend used to live there, he and I spent hundreds of days and nights making the kind of memories that even the resentment I carry can’t take away. I hadn’t been there since before the arrest. Though for some reason, God had intended that I visit that place again, I was going to someone’s house and low and behold not only was she my old friends neighbor, she happened to live in the apartment where it all started. Isn’t that fucking crazy?
The memories that I was reminded of during the journey, every nook and every cranny, every wall that I had pissed on, every bush I had tossed some seeds behind hoping they grow, every sidewalk or street I had sat on waiting, or arriving. They are too much share in this one post, they require you to come with me and see it all for yourself as I tell you.
Though the point of this post was to discuss the suffocation I feel. You see this person, she lives right smack dab in the middle of nowhere, which means you have to truly escape the city and you can hear the crickets creaking at night. A sound I hadn’t heard in years to be honest. It was fucking relaxing. The walks I used to take around that area, the parks I had visited, the streets that I had explored every inch of… in case of the need for an exit strategy. O that place is so fucking tranquil. I should go there, I should go take some nice long walks. I think I will.
The city feels like a box, the places I go to feel like another type of box, it all feels enclosed. Which is why I truly used to love going there, a place where there were no walls, a place there were no buildings, a place that still hasn’t been built yet. A place free from architecture, free from civil planning, free from everything but one’s imagination and the effort your legs can produce.
A Sane Undertaking 