I've been thinking about it more and more so. How Jules in Pulp Fiction talks about wanting to just "...walk the Earth," and how Forrest Gump did it a little quicker, and how the father and son in McCarthy's The Road never let the fire die, and how adventures never come home. An Australian girl named Jessica Watson circumnavigated the globe in a sailboat, but she was too young to be considered for a world record.
A man asked me for change today on Mineola Blvd. and I asked him a few questions since I didn't initially hear him. What had happened to his income? Why he was there...and so forth. And he rolled up his pant legs and showed me the turgid socks, brown filth speckling through. He seemed to be suffering from gout, and the hospital could only do so much about it, he told me. And I remembered volunteering at the hospital and seeing this type of thing much worse, cancerous growths blowing up legs to incredible proportions.
And I thought and thought about it, his immobility, hopelessness, and is it recklessness to envisage such a journey when others cannot, will not, will never be able to? All my life, I've been keen on documenting my experiences through the idiosyncratic lens that is my written voice, and I wonder about the travel, and is there something else that can be done to make it more, reverential...How can one bring about change through something big and small at the same time?
