Things I saw on the subway:
Yesterday I saw that crazy lady that I saw before. I could have sworn I wrote about her before, but I just pored through all the (months and months and months) of coredump archives and couldn't find it. I did find lots of boring drivel though! Wow, I was impressed. (I was kidding about the months and months thing, it's really only been a few).
Anyway, the crazy lady. She's a relatively normal woman, but she constantly curses at everyone. It's not like Tourrette's; it's more like she hates you. She'll be quiet for a while, and then all of a sudden something sets her off and she goes off for the rest of the ride, swearing like a sailor. She ranges over everything, cursing individuals on the train, the government, "them". It's incredibly entertaining, except you can't really laugh because she seems like she could do some serious damage. She's not large, but she's so crazy that anything could happen. Yesterday no one tripped her switch until right before I got off, so I didn't notice her until I started hearing a whole lot of cussing from the other end of the train. Maybe she's not crazy, she's just an entertainer. Next time, we should all applaud.
Something else I've never seen before: A conductor came through the train and stopped by a woman who was leaning over in her chair, sleeping. He banged on the window really loudly and told her she had to sit up. But he called her Ma'am. The train wasn't crowded, so it wasn't because she was taking up two seats. She made a funny little scream and sat bolt upright, looking very confused. She looked right at me and I shrugged, commiserating, then went back to my book. A few minutes later, she said, "Is this train going to Brooklyn?" to no one in particular. I looked up and she was looking right at me so I told her we were already in Brooklyn. It happens to me pretty often; people ask me for directions, or they ask no one and I answer. Next time maybe I'll keep my mouth shut and see if anyone else says anything.
I'd like to expand on something I wrote the other day about Coredump. I wrote something about how I was struggling with the public-ness of this journal, and how I can't write everything I could if no one was reading it. I've been thinking about this a lot lately, and talking to a few people about it.
Conclusions (for the time being):
The thing is, if no one was reading it, I wouldn't be writing anything at all. The audience is part of it. I know people are reading it, and I know, roughly, who they are. I also know that anyone can read it, though I'm not too concerned with random strangers. It's a very interesting part of the writing for me that people read it, and that I can't write just anything. I'm learning just how much I'm willing to share, and with whom. I can also make little jokes that only certain people will get. There might even be some in this very post!
So the bottom line is that CoreDump is a form of communication. It's not really a journal, or at least it's not simply a journal. I'm communicating with myself, and with you, whoever you are.
It changes, too. For a while, it was pretty random; observations, little stories of my day, and the like. September 11 changed everything drastically. For a while I was interested in getting down my reactions and thoughts as they happened as much as possible. I was thinking about what a watershed event this was, and I was not only alive at the time (and thankfully after), but I live right here, in New York, where the shit went down. So I had two, possibly three purposes: One, to share with my friends and family around the world, and here, what it was like for me to experience these events from this vantage point. Two, to document my thoughts about it for myself. I imagine one day I'll be older, and I think it will be very interesting to not just look back and remember that it was a terrible and fascinating and confusing time, but to actually be able to read, and have other people read, exactly what I was going through right then. And three, I was just trying to work things out myself, working through the aforementioned terror, fascination and confusion.
And there you have it. For better or worse, that's what we got here. I'll try to keep the sad details of my personal life to a minimum, promise.
"Help me get my yacht out of dry dock? Sir? Sir?"
