I want to run away but he I don't follow me anymore, and I just want to stop running.
The evening had nothing but gloomy tints even though there was a lot of light coming through the window, the light wakes me up at about 8 o'clock, I put on my bright colored sneakers (like those that fitness ladies use to go running and stop every time they pass a street with a green light). I hate those sneakers, but they're comfortable, they're Puma, but I want Nike. Anyway, I wear them anyway. I go out almost every morning to see the same gentleman who looks like a potential rapist sweeping outside the nice apartments, I think about why he looks at me with bulging eyes. It pisses me off that men like him look at me when I wear athletic leggings, they piss me off too sports leggings but yes, yes, yes, yes, they're comfortable too.
I am lucky to have a forest to get lost a few blocks from my house, I am lucky and not because between the man who sweeps, the fitness ladies running and my sneakers that I do not like, I can not get out of my body and just enter between the trees, with its mixed smell of wet leaves, twigs and herbs. I walk 25 minutes and I make it, I start running and the meditation in motion begins. If he is no longer following me, why should I keep running, simple equation but to me the simple slips, I drop everything that leads me to a solution, I drop it just like the dry leaves of the 300 trees in the forest near my house.
Being in the forest I come back to me, a little old man passes by me half running and reminds me how difficult it is to run when the weight makes you go down, towards the absurd, towards the concrete, towards your end. I look at that floor and suddenly I see my bare feet. They hurt when I see them because I step on them without something to protect them, how I forgot the squeaky tennis shoes that aren't nike. I panic, the weight pulls me down, again the earth eats me up and if he no one will know, no one will notice that I'm gone. Not even the old man. Maybe the man who sweeps won't see me come back, but so what, he'll find other legs to harass.
I sink, undo myself and run in reverse, as if turning back time to the point where I once he followed me, being with me after laughing in that same forest without the weight against the ground.
Maybe in that spot towards the back where we used to be I won't forget my shoes, maybe there too along with your hand can continue to run.
Photographers: John Kilar | Instagram
I write mental vomit so I can sleep.