Massachusetts Avenue

sounds like: "lo-fi boy, fighter girl" the pillows
feels like: boston
tastes like: luke-warm oolong tea


old picture from when i lived on mass ave.

This past weekend I went to Boston. Most of the weekend was spent on a couch watching movies with my usual rag tag crew. On the last day we (my man and I) split up to see old friends we hadn't in a while and planned to meet up at the bus station four hours later. My friend had to tend to some things so our session in Harvard square ended early, however it was great to see him again since we hadn't had a good restaurant bitch session in nearly eight months.


going down st. boltoph today!

So I skipped over to the #1 MBTA bus just as I had a hundred times before years earlier when I resided in the South End on the Roxbury line. I road my old bus route down Massachusetts Ave., over the Charles which glimmered spectacularly in the sunset and made me ache a little for a life I had five years ago. I got off the bus into the night where I always used to: in front of the orange line T stop and looked across the street to where my ol' stoop was. It was lonely looking. I lingered around my old block for an hour or so, following the ghosts of my past through old ally ways and dusty tobacco shops, up through corridor park and into the depths of Boston. The Prudential sparkled down on me as I strolled through the park, watching the wealthy walk their fine bred dogs and peeking up into their posh apartments wondering what it would be like to live there.

I wound up at Copley and tourists asked me directions I could answer. I headed own Boylston and regarded all the stores and reminisced all those late nights I walked this street back home from the movies or a convention. The dead of the streets and the liveliness of our laughter clashing in my memory. I slipped through the stink of Chinatown, leaving the wealthy with their shops and now dodging dealers and poor Asian grandmothers to the bus station where my boyfriend was waiting for me upon a marble bench.

It was the kind of walk I've been hungering for. Being immersed in the anonymity of the city, possessing the old souled resident's knowledge of the area, floating down rivery sidewalks and sucking in the energy that glowed up into the sky. It was like walking into the fountain of youth and coming out full and supple again.

It also convinced me that I should not move back to the city. I should find a new city to get re-acquainted with and that's what I will do.