Living in Observation

All aboard.
In it for the long haul.
What have I gotten myself into?

At the first moment upon stepping onto the train I realized that I had not felt so vulnerable ever in my life, and wondered if I could handle this. As I sat next to the first lady who I thought I could trust I constantly worried about exploring the train because I did not want to leave my stuff, my lifeline. After trying to meditate and make myself comfortable I kept seeing folks coming in and out of the back door in my cart. I remembered the words of a wise man who made this trip happen.... the words spoke "Be Raw". With that notion, I swallowed my fear and headed back to the observation cart..... and then it all began. 180 degrees of windows, lounge chairs, people chilling, drinking, talking and overall just chilling. At this point I breathed easier and went and grabbed my shoulder bag with all my most valuable belongings and placed myself across a table from a young man reading and writing. I turn to face the southern window to noticed I was being welcomed by a goofy looking pink moon....  a certain song by Nick Drake played through my head. I knew the night was near and wondered how that would change the dynamic of peoples energy once the majority of passengers laid their heads to rest.

Nestled in the lounge:

A young mysterious women sat across from the young gentleman and I. We were the youngest and most studious bunch in the room. It is as if found each other on purpose. Young, full of dreams, alone, but now clustered together as if keeping each other in silent company.

The night carried on and I observed:

Democratic Jewish Brooklyn man appalled by the republicans stance on rape. He was headed to the DNC in Charlotte and claimed to be the 3rd cousin of Allen Ginsberg....  after chatting, I believe him. He was great.

Awkward man approaches cute quiet studious girl and asks silly questions. I try not to be distracted because I deep into a certain book about a certain ancient flower.

Emily is the quite girls name. She is from No Cal. She is moving to North Carolina to work on an organic farm.... a job she had held before in California. She is kind and very intelligent.... an old librarian soul. My first train friend.

I try to sleep in in my coach seat next to trustworthy lady, it sucks. I am right next to the door. I have no blanket. I should of brought a blanket. 3 hours of awful attempts to make myself comfortable. We end up in Lincoln. I smoke a cigarette. I then attempt to sleep in the lounge. All is going well till a drunk stumbles in loudly talking about the people he just offended while being a drunk in the sleeping cart ( I call them cart, but I think they are referred to as cars). I then overhear he is an alcoholic that was clean for 6 years until last week and is heading to his friends wedding where he will not tell them that he is relapsing..... what a shame. I have no time to try and save his soul.

We stop in Des Moines, people get off. I get two seats to myself. I proceed to awkwardly position myself like the rest of the cart and find myself sleeping soon, only to be woken by the sunrise over the most sky I have seen. It is beautiful and bright.... and back to sleep I went.

Next Morning:

Starving. Food on trains is gross. I am low on funds. Life is good and exciting, but I am hungry and dehydrated. Thank god for an angel that packed me a bag of snacks :) I head to the observation cart to munch and proceed to read, and write. Emily shows up, we chat more and more. She is my first train friend. She is wise, and I enjoy such company.

Midwest madness. Corn, lots of corn. A perfectly petit weeping willow passes my eye.... it makes me happy. I decide to listen to music. Music sounded particularly sweet meshed with the constant movement I observed of a slow world passing by so quickly.

Chicago:

We crept in. Saw Sears Tower from 5 miles away.... yes, it is very tall. Gathered things, said goodbye and most importatnly "Safe Travel" to those I had minor communication with along the trip. Chicago. Union Station. Underground..... HOT, HUMBID, and I have so much shit.

Where am I? Can I do this? How long till I see my friend T? Time to get on Yelp... I need to eat. Where are all these places? Who are all these thousands of faces? People are moving fast.... buildings are tall, I am maybe lost.... ok, breath.... now be strong, and carry on.

On I go.
On I go.

Heading east.... which is towards Lake Michigan and towards the Art Institute of Chicago which I was told would be a good place to write.

Find food. Second Best Chicken Parm Sandwich I have had ever. What a delight.

Carry on.

Museum found. I post up across the street. Instantly I feel at home with "Jolene" my typewriter by my side. Untouched Poetry is an instant hit. Birthday poems, Love poems, Poems of Journeys and so on... the usual suspects plus some lovely glances from some more then stunning ladies.... this gypsy is a star. Cops roll by, say nothing. Game on Chicago I am coming for you.

T arrives. Time to share love and stories with a dear friend. Magic unfolds. The city is cooling down. The city is beautiful, large, and chaotic. I am in love. I enjoy beer, he enjoys Tea (hehe...) We are as good of friends as ever. No surprise.

Next Step:

North Coast Music Festival to meet up with a pretty popular drummer of a band with another side project that plays electronic shows. We run into the band Pendulum.... I say hi, they say hi.... I tell them they are cool in other romantic words, they humbly abide and life goes on. We run into a friend of mind named Taka.... what a surprise. Him and T are momentarily new best friends... I remember why I love life. Soon we see said rockstar. He is cool, and I always thought so. Late night coffee shop happens. Love is scary. Stories are told. Heartbreak is part of it all.

Once said rockstar had said all he could about his struggles, he inquires about me. With no delay, and a early understanding that I would be explaining my reason for travel in great detail... I was ready. And as pure as ever, with my dear friend T, and said rockstar I lay it all out.... sober. Beautiful, brave, and with a trembling heart and voice I allow myself to tell the story how it had come to this.... in a nutshell(a nutshell with thorns, that is). Life is good. He looks at me with puppy dog rockstar eyes. We are friends. He knows about cosmic love. Life is deep, I am strong, and tomorrow is another day that will never come. So I will rest my head knowing that right now I am wonderful and excited to venture on.

"The observation cart is truly the best place to make observations"

One in love.

Ry~