they pay to kiss your feet

since there's no one else around, we let our hair grow long and forget all we used to know. then our skin gets thicker from living out in the snow.

Thursday, June 09, 2005


I keep a photograph on my desk at work that was taken on a subway in New York. There is an older man on the subway sitting in his seat holding his head in his hands and he looks exhausted and tired and like maybe he just lost his job or his dog. And on the seat behind him, sitting with her back toward the old man, is a young woman who is also holding her head in her hands but she looks sad and angry and like maybe she forgot what she is living for. I imagine the subway was hot because they are both wearing tank tops and they look a little bit dirty and grungy and stained with sweat and maybe a few tears. And I love this photograph because it reminds me of all of the pain and hurt and anguish in the world and that when I’m hurting, I’m not the only one and that when I’m not hurting, I need to comfort those who are. I also love the image’s raw emotion – a moment when two strangers sat close enough to each other to breathe the same air, but not close enough to speak or to realize that they each were suffering - that they were both mourning the loss of something they needed or the absence of something they never really had.


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