on a darkling plain.

i am the child of the wasteland....a land of haunted houses and monsters i call father. dark talents run in the family, but i shatter the glass to let the moonlight in, not to destroy something fragile for the feeling of breaking beneath my fists. all i can do is scream, crawl out, and keep screaming. but i can hold the sparrow, mend its wing... i am the spring rain and the hurricane... the monsters cower now, not me, not you. *xn*

Wednesday, Feb. 12, 2003 - 8:01 pm

i was surprised, in a minor way (this is the east village so i've seen weirder) when i saw one of the people who live in my building out with a big sack digging through garbage cans.

this isn't him or nyc but he looked a lot like this. i thought maybe i should cross the street so he wouldn't be embarassed being "discovered" but then he smiled and waved and said hello, i did the same back and walked on. he wasn't in any way ashamed. he is an old man with a heavy accent. he lives with an even older man, i assume his dad, in one of the smaller apts in the building on the first floor. the even older man is ancient- he walks literally stooped over almost in half and waits shaking while the "younger" old man sets up his wheelchair downstairs. sometimes the ancient man can walk without the wheel chair and i see him toddling along at a good clip for bent over person using only a cane. he went missing once but was found having fallen asleep in the park. it was when the police were looking for him knocking on doors (maybe thinking we were playing with the man and forgot to return him??) that we found out he used to be an artist. there are no pictures anywhere that i've seen when i caught glimpses of their place when the door was opened, i wonder what kind of art he did but the younger old man speaks very little english it seems- i don't think i'll ever find out. so i began to see him more and realized he was collecting bottles and cans to return for the money. then i saw him and the ancient man in the wheelchair (i still don't know their names) waiting for the semi-daily free food truck outside the park to start serving. a line of people waited and again he saw me and smiled.

i think i have figured them out, maybe, maybe not- but it seems that even though they are here in the "new world" they still live the way they may have done it in the "old world". if this man was walking along in the country and he saw were a wild apple tree grew or where berry bushes gave fruit, he'd probably stop and eat and bring some home. he'd remember these places in his mind and at the right times of year pass by and pick again. there are people in farmlands around the world that glean the grainfields- picking the stuff left over after the big harvest, and probably collecting enough to take care of themselves. He was living the way he would in the country, he is gleaning the city and sees nothing wrong with it. he knows where the free food gets delivered and is there when he needs it- he picks bottles and cans many days- and whatever else he does to keep he and the ancient man housed is working- i don't know what it is. but its working, its kind of cute when you think about it.

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