The windy busy night pulsated strong with cellphone radiations and the frenzy of the neons and the Christmas lights. The people rushed everywhere, everyone having a place where they, apparently, had to be and as quickly as possible. Everyone except Alex, seemingly. But he was used to it.
In the meantime, the city streets buzzed and hummed, moaning and complaining with the traffic and people talking, running, laughing and arguing. Many of them were busy speaking in their cellphones, others were lost in their MP3 storage capacity, others still seemed occupied with themselves and their thoughts, one or two even talking loud with themselves.
But all of them shared the same feeling of urgence, of utter need to get away from the place where they were and just be…well, somewhere else, anywhere. A typical big city, end of the afternoon, rush hour.
As for Alex, he felt different. As usual he seemed to have all the time in the world to get wherever he wanted to go. Even when he had an objective, a purpose, an appointment, he always had lots of time in his hands to get there. That allowed him to move in these streets in a different way, with a different perspective.
He had so many time that he developed some sort of aqquired taste for walking. Walking everywhere seemed to give him a sense of fullfilment, of actually doing something, of looking occupied. He walked everywhere, and he took his time doing it. His friends mocked him because of the long lenghts of walking he sometimes endured, but Alex didn't care. He liked it. Soon the mere act of walking became something like a science, or beter yet, a ritual. He always turned on his own MP3 player, (because when in Rome do as the romans), buttoned his coat, lit a cigarrette and off he went.
Walking gave him the feeling of having a goal to achieve, even if small, and marching straight ahead through these crowded streets made him feel like some sort of evolution was happening. Like he was getting somewhere, not only physically, but mentally as well. It was as if by walking he was leaving something behind, as if he was letting go some extra weight in his life behind him, while in the front laid the future. Almost as if at the turn of each corner there would be something exciting and new waiting for him. Or at least something new at any given point of his small journey. Of course that never happened, but in a weird way, he kept hoping. And walking. Almost feeling like the only way to get “there” was to keep walking and walking. Eventually he’d find it. Whatever that was.
And the funny thing was that as much as he walked through the same streets over and over again he never had that sense of dejá vu, maybe because he was always expecting something new out of it. It was all about the simple physical act of putting one foot ahead of the other, and just go!
During these walks the world outside never stopped. It kept rushing and running. Sometimes Alex felt like he was walking in a slow mode. Or better yet, like he was walking in a regular speed and the entire world outside him had the fast forward button stuck. It was weird, almost funny, seeing everything in a fastforward mode. The lights of the cars mixed into several blurred threads of lights, all the voices and noises were engineered in some sort of low frequency shriek that made Alex laugh. It was like watching from the outside this big caroussel speeding and turning.
But every once in a while, and those were Alex’s favorite moments, the table turned and it was the world itself who stopped. In those walks Alex was able to let himself and the world so far behind him that he almost felt that he was moving through the streets where everything and everyone was frozen or moving really really slow. Those were really his favorite bits, because he felt that no one noticed him while he, in his turn, seemed to have lots of time and opportunities to look, to watch, to quietly observe the world and the people.
In the meantime, the city streets buzzed and hummed, moaning and complaining with the traffic and people talking, running, laughing and arguing. Many of them were busy speaking in their cellphones, others were lost in their MP3 storage capacity, others still seemed occupied with themselves and their thoughts, one or two even talking loud with themselves.
But all of them shared the same feeling of urgence, of utter need to get away from the place where they were and just be…well, somewhere else, anywhere. A typical big city, end of the afternoon, rush hour.
As for Alex, he felt different. As usual he seemed to have all the time in the world to get wherever he wanted to go. Even when he had an objective, a purpose, an appointment, he always had lots of time in his hands to get there. That allowed him to move in these streets in a different way, with a different perspective.
He had so many time that he developed some sort of aqquired taste for walking. Walking everywhere seemed to give him a sense of fullfilment, of actually doing something, of looking occupied. He walked everywhere, and he took his time doing it. His friends mocked him because of the long lenghts of walking he sometimes endured, but Alex didn't care. He liked it. Soon the mere act of walking became something like a science, or beter yet, a ritual. He always turned on his own MP3 player, (because when in Rome do as the romans), buttoned his coat, lit a cigarrette and off he went.
Walking gave him the feeling of having a goal to achieve, even if small, and marching straight ahead through these crowded streets made him feel like some sort of evolution was happening. Like he was getting somewhere, not only physically, but mentally as well. It was as if by walking he was leaving something behind, as if he was letting go some extra weight in his life behind him, while in the front laid the future. Almost as if at the turn of each corner there would be something exciting and new waiting for him. Or at least something new at any given point of his small journey. Of course that never happened, but in a weird way, he kept hoping. And walking. Almost feeling like the only way to get “there” was to keep walking and walking. Eventually he’d find it. Whatever that was.
And the funny thing was that as much as he walked through the same streets over and over again he never had that sense of dejá vu, maybe because he was always expecting something new out of it. It was all about the simple physical act of putting one foot ahead of the other, and just go!
During these walks the world outside never stopped. It kept rushing and running. Sometimes Alex felt like he was walking in a slow mode. Or better yet, like he was walking in a regular speed and the entire world outside him had the fast forward button stuck. It was weird, almost funny, seeing everything in a fastforward mode. The lights of the cars mixed into several blurred threads of lights, all the voices and noises were engineered in some sort of low frequency shriek that made Alex laugh. It was like watching from the outside this big caroussel speeding and turning.
But every once in a while, and those were Alex’s favorite moments, the table turned and it was the world itself who stopped. In those walks Alex was able to let himself and the world so far behind him that he almost felt that he was moving through the streets where everything and everyone was frozen or moving really really slow. Those were really his favorite bits, because he felt that no one noticed him while he, in his turn, seemed to have lots of time and opportunities to look, to watch, to quietly observe the world and the people.
It was quite paradoxal after all. While he walked in search of something, God knows what, he also enjoyed the anonymity he found on those cold, barren streeets. "Go figure!", he thought, "The World is crazy, and i'm going crazy with it. God damn!"
Gunther Dünn
2 comentários:
Roma?
a foto?
não sei, confesso. encontrei a imagem por acaso e achei piada como acompanhamento do texto.
perdi o link do site de onde a saquei.
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