about what's amazing

For a little while, I often found myself amazed—amazed by parts of the physical world around me, by developments in my life, by little moments, by lots of things. I know people have been using the word casually for years now, usually just to pay a compliment or to describe a fun experience, sapping the meaning out of it. But I think my dad's decline and passing and my getting older helped me appreciate more in life, and I was thinking how amazing some things really can be.

Like, I was taking the the subway regularly for work. The infrastructure of a public transit system is incredible. It amazes me. And I thought of how I rode the subway every day to and from work, but each time I rode, I felt like it took me farther and farther from home. This amazed me, too. And although I am often alone, I am amazed when I find myself alone in a given moment, living a life hundreds of miles from nothing, working in a big, complicated system of chaos, and starved. 

about waiting in DC's underground Metro stations

Crazy how the train, its headlights beaming the anger of God, comes, a whooshing birth out of the tunnel, squealing curses to stop in a scraped-out cavity under the city—just so you can get on the damn thing.

about how I should drive more (update of a previous post)

The 7:45 morning bus always arrives early, the 8:05 late. Someone plays her phone audio out loud on the ride. I get off at King Street metro station and wait for the yellow line to Greenbelt. After Pentagon station, the train surges out of Virginia across the Potomac—my favorite part of the commute. Looking out to see dulled light glancing off hard bridges, rough, sectarian waters, and wildly uneven expectations. I see the mild winter morning sinking the bots in their cars moving from A to B. I think of how every day I take the subway to and from work, but each time I ride, I feel like it takes me farther and farther from home.

At Len'fant Plaza station I crowd off the yellow line to catch the next train west to Capitol South. And, there, young blood marches to Congress for another day of legislating and messaging. They moved from somewhere in the top of their class down into the tunnels beneath this pyramid where they scratch walls and people, where they keep tradition alive, where everyone else can lick heels.