|2004-05-28 - 8:45 p.m.
i love the commuter train ride from the suburbs to manhattan. the view of diminishing economic status. the backs of theater marquees. the billboards for tire shops, tai chi, and dentists. the grafitti. i always stare out of the train and project myself upon the landscape. following the lines of where each street leads. seeing the populations rise with the stacking of brick. amazed how behind every single window, an entire universe exists.
so i followed the story into this one window. across central park to york avenue. into the NY presbyterian hospital. up to the third floor. oncology. and there i saw myself sitting in the waiting room. i looked around. i was never supposed to look in this window. one by one- patient checks in. pays bill. gets called behind door number one. suite number two. hall number three. it is a factory. and my father was next. just another person, next in line. and all of the unknown was where we placed fear. and then the unknown became known. and we were no longer afraid.
it has been a few days since the chemo. some hair is already shedding. some muscles are beginning to ache. only the best is yet to come.
starting tuesday, i begin working at a small ad firm on madison avenue. ok NY. i guess i'll be here a little while. life. keeps. happening.