Fifteen Minute Freewrite

Music used to be an inspiration to me, but now it is locking me up.  The sounds keep me from expressing myself artistically, because I am too busy thinking about the pleasure to create my own pieces of art.  I need to open my eyes and remove the headphones.  I need to look out the window.  What do I see right now?

I see a closed market with a worker walking to the dumpster.  I see people walking down the sidewalk, bags in hand.  They probably took the train into the city.  They’re probably going home to their husbands and wives.

Today I was driving down the street to find a man in a wheelchair just sitting in the middle of the road.  Just sitting there.  I went around him.  Everyone feels like they own this town.  The kids, they’re bad.  The vandalism is becoming a problem.  Graffiti, broken windows, cop sirens.  This place is rapidly turning into a disgrace and I’m watching patiently, waiting for the moment when North Philly completely infiltrates my neighborhood.

The air smells so good lately though, I can sense my favorite season floating in the air.  I wake up and make coffee just so I can dilute it with my homemade pumpkin creamer.  The sounds of the cars, hearing the train as it passes by, watching men in business suits walking down the sidewalk- that’s my morning.  I feel so at ease here.  I feel like I belong here, like I am a puzzle piece that belongs exactly where I am located.

I enjoy the darkness of my apartment as well as the walk from here to the pharmacy.  I keep my head pointed at the sidewalk as I walk, because I don’t want to make friends with my neighbors.  I don’t know how I feel about my neighbors.  I don’t want them to feel any particular way about me.  I prefer that they never really realize that I exist in the first place.  I just want to be left alone.  I just want to live here by myself.