"Banning Apathy in One Week," is laying on the floor with its cover directed at me and open for the grabbing. My art teacher from high school made this book and I was looking at it the other day. Everything seems so simple, so ideal, so utopian yet I haven't done a single exercise to ban apathy this week. For example, walk around the neighborhood to the corner store, to your friend's house for a cup of tea, eat and make a dinner made from local produce and with a friend, use your hands, attend a community event, have a conversation that does not necessitate technology, and lastly make brunch and play scrabble. None of these, not one! Instead I have relegated myself to my bedroom and am brooding while men in polo shirts and women in silk summer dresses gallivant down the avenue with no suspicions and ostensibly limited brain activity. Outside my bedroom door my roommates sit side by side rehashing 1969 and are completely content with this; stoned, illuminated, lost in a hyeina yelp.
This will not stand with me much longer. The more and more I sit, the more I feel like I am missing out on the people I should be meeting, the places I should be seeing, the food I should be eating. With summer approaching so is the feeling of flight because quite honestly I am too anxious to be here. I want to be everywhere at once which, quantum theory might suggest that this is possible. With that said, I have to go to Argentina. I have to.
I am no longer Chicago.
