Traveling by public transportation fragilifies me. My body is in flux, and success (getting where I want to go) relies on my remaining mentally vigilant despite my natural inclination to curl up and sleep until I get to wherever I’m staying. I’m typing as fast as I can for five minutes before I have to go off and find the next train. After I get off the train, I have to find out if I can get another train to take me to my accommodation or if I’m spending a night awake in a train station while I wait for the morning milker. It’ll probably be fine, but I wish I hadn’t overlooked this earlier. I’m reading The Famished Road by Ben Okri, which won the 1991 Booker Prize and inspired one of Radiohead’s best songs (“Street Spirit (Fade Out)”). It’s good, but the narrator is also in flux, always in transit, always under some sort of stress. The echoes are a bit too resonant for today, so I’ll probably switch to music for the next train.
I have to go now. I’ll blog more, and better, later tonight or tomorrow. For now, [finger guns]
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