I was just sitting downstairs in front of the television. I didn’t particularly want to watch it. It was just a way to pass the time. Then I realized lately I’ve been watching a lot of TV. I had the sudden feeling that maybe I was melting my brain away. Maybe it has something to do with why I’ve been so bored and uninspired lately. They say you use the least brain power while sitting in front of the television, don’t they?
I had to get up. Now I need to find some effective way to spend my time. The feeling of your brain burning out is a terrible one. I don’t want to be constantly bored, nor do I want to continue alienating the people around me. I wish it was warm enough to go out for a casual stroll this time of night. That would feel pretty nice about now.
I read a few stories about people getting arrested like the young man in that video. While it was perhaps done in questionable ways or places in some cases, there were some that simply don’t make sense. I’ve also heard it has been banned at a certain anime convention because it is considered sexual soliciting.
Really now?
I think there’s something beautiful about the movement. When a stranger does something like that I always feel inspired. Before, I mentioned a stranger giving a family his umbrella. I also mentioned one young woman being handed a sketch by an anonymous artist. Sometimes you just need a hug, or an umbrella, or a compliment, and if a kindly stranger is willing to give it to you, maybe you’ll feel a bit closer to the rest of the world. When you have one of those days where you feel as if there’s no one to turn to, this kind of thing makes all the difference. It’s how we can keep going in a world where altruism’s existence is questionable. Why in the world would you arrest someone for that? A hug is hardly sexual soliciting, if you ask me. The fact that anyone would see it as such makes me sigh at the way people think.
On a totally unrelated note, does anyone know the name of the song in that video? I have grown fond of it.
(If you know T.M.Revolution’s Hot Limit, I swear this makes sense. Sort of.)
Whether my parody is lame or not, it’s true. Winter makes my heart stop. The snow fails to do anything for my inspiration and I see less intriguing things to write about. Especially at that time of year when it all becomes gray from the leftover car exhaust, all the buses are late and you watch people slip on hidden patches of ice.
Even Saturday made me feel a lot better. It was only just above freezing, but it was raining outside. Everywhere smelled like the fresh water of spring. Fog covered up the lights atop the buildings. Our voices echoed off of their surfaces while we sang Christmas songs at the end of January. We sounded like we were drunk, but there was nothing like that inside of us. We were just laughing at the lingering trails of jokes, people with strange intentions, and that one kid’s fantastic body.
When summer comes, I’ll spend every night like that.
You can’t be honest if someone is watching you. So who can you be honest to? You start to feel like you’re all pent up and you start laughing at absolutely nothing. But the only person you can confide in is nobody.
At first it’s a bit of a rocky start, but soon enough I get the hang of things and don’t feel so much like an idiot. The girl working next to me would like me to feel that way, but her shift ends soon.
A pair of Hmong boys stop by the register and ask whether or not they can still sell their books. I can tell they’re Hmong because they come from the computers asking, “Dab tsi? Dab tsi?” The one talking to me is friendly and open. His eyes are a beautiful color – unnaturally light, the color of stained wood, probably contacts. When he leaves I can smell a vestige of his cologne and it makes me think of someone else. It’s something I would rather not think about, so I keep wondering about those strange eyes. What else do I have to do? Who is going to be there so long before classes?
Even so, five hours isn’t so long. The only time it seems that long is when I step out onto the sidewalk and my heels hurt from standing all day. It’s better than a bedsore. At least this way I can feel accomplished.
