Today after doing some volunteer work, I went to check out some fashion and go window shopping. After that, I wandered into Chinatown. The weather was a lovely early fall day, sunny, blue sky, and I was in no hurry to go home. Besides, home is subjective, anyway.
I went to eat some fresh tasty dumplings, cheap, 5 for $1. Then I went to buy some candy and pick up art supplies as I walked, dodging tourists and traffic in the narrow winding streets. By the time I got to the train station, my legs were tired. I had been standing on my feet for several hours anyway and it was time to relax a bit.
As I scrawled some notes on my city observations, I let two trains pass me by, picking up passengers on the way. I felt at peace, alone yet not, in this city that is all I know, and all I am.
By the time I got on the train and took a moment to look for the time, it was 2:30. I had thought it was much later than that, more like 4:30. Getting home, I took my time, enjoying the sunshine.
When I got home, I was greeted with a comment like are you having a better day, are you feeling better. I felt better. Because I gave myself space and permission to vent. No one else could.
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