Kiss and Ride on the CTA

I'm on vacation, but I'd thought I'd transcribe a little something I wrote on the, train ride from O'Hare to my friend's place in Wicker Park late Tuesday night. I will update more on my trip to Chicago later on this week, or when I come back. Radiohead was amazing....

After a series of time lapses, a couple of turnings of the on and off switch of consciousness, I find myself riding the CTA in the midst of what is becoming yesterday and the remnants of what is still today.

I was planning on numbing my mind for the remainder of the train ride, but there she was walking a minute or two before the sliding doors closed.

There is a sign by the door that reminds me alot of the ones posted in the Parisian Metro and the RER. Makes sense. These are sister cities after all. I find myself adjusting my glasses awkwardly as an excuse to grab a quick glance. Because, really, no one wants you to think that you're staring.

Already I feel like a new man. What is left behind is separated and sheltered by these high speed steel cages.

She rests her head on her bag. Not a traveler, so she can't possibly be escaping from anything. No, hers is the look of someone who endures because what she happens to be there. She is sharing this experience because I happened to jump in on the train that she was planning on taking. There is no what was, but only a what is for her. For me, this moment is fleeting and I'm trying to hold on to it through these clumsy words. For her this is her sense of self, this being, late at night commuter train into the city, and affording to sleep without worrying where she is going. Her natural disposition is to be here. Meanwhile, we arrive at my stop and I get out into the muggy night dragging my carry on. Welcome to Chicago, I imagine her whispering.