What Am I Doing Here?
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What Am I Doing Here?
I ask myself this question every morning.
Perhaps I have not been successful because I don’t stop tormenting myself for at least one day, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for all this that would actually make sense.
I glance at the people around me.
Hits for this cloud of inexpressive faces. Bent down heads, lost in the read of the leader free newspaper. Or to add, smothered into the screens of their smartphone. Nobody looks at anybody. Nobody talks to anybody. People were walking with closed eyes – they know the roads of their lives by hearts.
You have to see them pushing each other to get through the subway. Trying to fold our arms, looking straight at each other at the slight accidental brushing of hands.
It’s funny that all those wonderful years spent traveling in the subways, all those shakes, all those missed connections have affected me mentally. It’s been twenty years now that the subway, the world, the stri
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