(View of NYC from George Washington Bridge, Bronx)
I’m increasingly transient these days, pinballing from place to place. Fearing stasis, I turn to the crowd and ask it to move me along. Two nights ago, I found myself literally carried this way, swept from hand to hand atop a sea of screaming, euphoric people. Crowd surfing at a rave is one way to lose yourself and forget your problems; visiting friends across the Eastern Seaboard is another. Boston, New York, Newark, Philly, all in the course of a bus trip.
Today, an old college friend will lead me around the streets of the City of Brotherly Love, a place I’ve never visited, with her fiancee, a man I’ve never met. And then we will meet another friend, now a Ph.D candidate at Princeton, for dinner. Tomorrow, a harder visit: I will see a friend who is cooped up in his personal hell, and remind him that he is beautiful, and loved, and that he can kick the drugs and start again, start cleaner, start better.
And elsewhere, upon my request, someone I love begins the bitter process of opening old wounds and finally having a real conversation with his parents.
We are all moving towards something, even if our patterns resemble nothing more than crazy zigzags.
Hinnom, Texas (Bon Iver)