Tuesday, November 18, 2003
Odd.
I discovered that I have files of old, random ‘diary’ entries taking up a lot of space in my computer. This is an effort to solve the problem while keeping an outlet for my occasional ''creative bursts'' as I like to call them, since it makes me sound intellectual, creative, and well, burst-able. It's for myself really, not that I can see anybody else reading this. I need to write down my thoughts, read them, and convince myself I'm not that crazy - all without using precious room on my computer.
To begin, a very nice thing happened to me today. I was waiting at an intersection with my cello, dripping wet, freezing, looking homeless, when a middle aged lady walked up to me and put her umbrella over my head. At first I didn't register her or her umbrella, I only felt the absense of rain. There was no longer the little raindrops bouncing off my head, and the sound was dampened. I've never felt such gratitude from such a simple gesture. She didn't make a big deal of it either. She merely said, after my many thank you's, ''You're so wet already.'' She walked with me across the road and then we went our separate ways.
Thank you.
The reason why acts like 'let's share an umbrella' are rarely performed is that we're too suspicious, too cynical, too homophobic. The 'we' includes myself. Had a funny smelling man with long hair done that to me, I would have reacted differently. Nothing against men with long hair of course.
I discovered that I have files of old, random ‘diary’ entries taking up a lot of space in my computer. This is an effort to solve the problem while keeping an outlet for my occasional ''creative bursts'' as I like to call them, since it makes me sound intellectual, creative, and well, burst-able. It's for myself really, not that I can see anybody else reading this. I need to write down my thoughts, read them, and convince myself I'm not that crazy - all without using precious room on my computer.
To begin, a very nice thing happened to me today. I was waiting at an intersection with my cello, dripping wet, freezing, looking homeless, when a middle aged lady walked up to me and put her umbrella over my head. At first I didn't register her or her umbrella, I only felt the absense of rain. There was no longer the little raindrops bouncing off my head, and the sound was dampened. I've never felt such gratitude from such a simple gesture. She didn't make a big deal of it either. She merely said, after my many thank you's, ''You're so wet already.'' She walked with me across the road and then we went our separate ways.
Thank you.
The reason why acts like 'let's share an umbrella' are rarely performed is that we're too suspicious, too cynical, too homophobic. The 'we' includes myself. Had a funny smelling man with long hair done that to me, I would have reacted differently. Nothing against men with long hair of course.
