On this roadtrip, I'm learning more than I anticipated.
Friends joked with me... saying I was "soul searching" or "finding myself" on this adventure.
"No, just seeing friends and family"
Turns out they were right. There is something different about talking philosophy with someone within their own home, staying for the night, and continuing in the morning. It isn't just the words either... you get this subtext of their humanity during the silences. Artwork, messiness, an old cat, a large CD collection... There are these clues to people hiding in the open.
I was riding the subway in Manhattan, and I sat amazed at the obvious: all of these people have lives. Each one of them woke up this morning, put on some clothes... where did they buy these clothes? Probably a different visit per article. Little stains tell stories, I can't hear the words, but the story is hanging in the air... a clickable button on the webpage of their wardrobe. Why is this man homeless? When did he start singing? This guy's backpack keeps ramming into me... why is it so full?
