like, whatever.

I feel glances and stares like jabs or caresses. Sometimes intrusive, but sometimes gentle and reassuring. Travelling through a dense sea of eyes, moving to the beat of schedules and appointments, I am surrounded and vulnerable. I am suddenly aware of my flesh. I am an animal. I'm not my books, talents or ideas. I am my flesh, my baby face, my doubts. I am not strong enough. I will be devoured. So I run; pushing my essence to the top of a nearby building. I am floating above everything. I turn up the music, and let my essence move to it, get lost in it, become it. Because my essence can be anything. It molds to the elegant edges of skyscrapers, sinks into the tiny alleys. It is empowered by the human potential, the attention to detail, the creation of systems. It grows and grows until all of Chicago is under its fingertips. Its fingers glide over the skyline in admiration and love.

I'm sitting on the Orange Line train. Doors closing. I catch my reflection on the window pane and remember who I am.