after my therapy session, i picked up my friend and headed for the amtrak station to drop him off. we talked about music, as we often do. i pulled over by the entrance behind an ambulance and some other emergency vehicle, i can’t recall. a second ambulance pulled up on the lane to my left, effectively blocking me into my spot. i watched as my friend walked through the gates and continued to wait for room to head… somewhere.
i drove around for an hour. at first i was just exploring the city in which i have been living for a couple years now as i do sometimes, drive without a destination until i feel like turning around or until i intuitively find my way home. more often than not, i drive until i find a way home. in my wandering, i have come to realize that all roads lead to home. the metal box on wheels that i steer gives me a false sense of safety, as if i couldn’t drive off a cliff or get driven into at an intersection. but it doesn’t matter, because i am watching the world around me. i drive through yet another neighborhood. they are always all so different yet so similar. i see the lit-up windows, a warm, welcoming light that hints at the romanticized idea of a home. home. i imagine the lives of the people living inside the two-story construction. maybe they are happy. it doesn’t matter—they’ll never meet me, and i will never meet them.
i have come to notice i do that quite often. drive around a new neighborhood that i stumbled upon while driving in a random direction, observe houses, cars, decorations, architecture, gardens… the shops towards the end of the neighborhood, where the residential space begins to merge gradually into the city. suddenly, i am downtown again.