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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1297001-A-long-walk
Rated: ASR · Non-fiction · Other · #1297001
Walking home in the cold
Here's the stats of tonight:Weather for Denver Colorado: 7°F Scattered Clouds Wind: SE at 7 mph Humidity: 84 Total Est. Distance: 3.75 miles I must admit that Warm Sake and coffee defineatly are an akward combonation in me. It makes me crazy and hyper. So of course, what else would I do but decide to nix the idea of taking a bus home and instead walk in less than ten degree weather outside for at least four miles. I kept telling myself "whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger" I was reminded of a song lyric that goes, "I've never been so alone, and I've never been so alive." And within the hour and eighteen minutes that it took me to walk across Denver, I reevalutated alot of things. I wondered why I put myself over and over into situations such as these. Do I do this to myself in fear that I will have one too many bland journal entries creating a less interesting story? Or was it because I really found it relaxing as soon as I got past Cheesman park (and the creepy guys that seem to be at every street corner). I only came across one other person in the last three miles of my journey. He said, "It's cold tonight" I giggled and replied, "Yeah, it is". I felt as though I owned the whole city to myself. Even cars were a rare sight. My pants were like thin sheets of ice. I stopped twice, once to pee in an alley and another to wait to cross Colorado Bvld. When I stopped out there I could feel a tingling in my legs that was so surreal, as if I could make out every strand of string in my pants by feeling alone. I know I'm not anything like other girls, (how many times have I been warned about walking across Denver in the middle of the night unprotected and taken no action still?) but that's how I like it. I was at one point reminded of moshing at shows, breaking windows in my youth, and other random immature guilty pleasures I've enjoyed at one point or another. I was reminded that I am alive, that the burning of my legs is real, that these streets, although I had never previously walked on them, exsist. I found myself co-exsisting with the world as a whole, as I always am, but rarely stop to take notice of. These places are real and so am I. And whatever doesn't kill you only makes you stronger, and that's just it, I'm stronger than I was before I took that trip. In one way or another I've taken another step. And all it was was just a little walk in the end.....
© Copyright 2007 ElizabethHolloway (zabeholloway at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1297001-A-long-walk