Atlanta... I see you

Atlanta it is.

I don’t ask what I’m doing here.
I know how I got here.
I even know for how long I’m staying.

Shabby, grungy, slightly dark and perhaps faded... these are things I expected to encounter. (Please don’t ask me where I got this image… damn T.V spoils the brain.) However, I was completely mistaken in my ignorant perception. There was so much in Atlanta that caught my attention I couldn’t stop from taking pictures and walking the streets, studying the structures, tasting the variety of foods, and just breathing in the city. I was, quite simply, swept off my feet by the sights, the sounds, the smells… it was all startlingly magnetic.

I was surprised, but not fazed, that things were not at all the way I pictured them. Though every city has its darkest most questionable corners you wouldn’t even think to cross by mistake, I hardly hesitated to walk into unfamiliar territory. To the contrary, there was a thrilling sense of discovery urging me onward with every step I took. It wasn’t enough to be told what I would find ahead. I had to know what was behind that building, had to see what I would find in the next street, had to view what there was beyond each park. Then suddenly, like some superabsorbent sponge, I started taking in all the details surrounding me: the cold biting through my clothes, the warm sunlight beaming from between the buildings, the sharp fresh air hitting my lungs like a shot of rum, the cars zipping down the street too fast to survive crossing, the faces of those walking by me on the wide sidewalks… Faces, that’s one of the things that stood out the most.

The pace in this city wasn’t so rushed you couldn’t even remember who was standing next to you in a two-hour-waiting-line. I constantly found myself wondering about the people I came across, even in the briefest of terms. It wasn’t like a sudden curiosity to know the statistical body count of the inhabitants in the metropolis area. No, nothing so detached. It was more… personal. There was just so much to discern from each person: unknown mannerisms, amused thoughts, concerned expressions, bored eyes, hesitant hands… Each time a person drew my attention, I wondered about their aspirations, what they were working so hard for, who they had to go home to every day… I remember the considerate taxi driver taking me to the airport, the shy elder woman placing my order at the bakery, the young lady fixing my reservation at the hotel, the waiter with a starling young expression, the stranger asking for food at the church, and the men sleeping on the ground in the park. So many people, that in any other place might have actually remained faceless.

But in Atlanta, it felt like I could see it all. There was a sense of unpredictability in the atmosphere, like you can step outside and anything is possible. Impatience didn’t make people scurry from one end of the city to the other in obvious intolerance. One can really SEE the people that keep the city alive and moving. Combined with an open and inviting ambiance, as though the city were exposed to me, I was overwhelmed. And it was well worth it, to be proven wrong.

I wouldn’t have asked what I was doing there.
I knew how I got there.
I even know how long I stayed.

Atlanta it was.

By: V.S

I see church windows burning brightly in Atlanta.

I see white blossoms in the air in Atlanta.

I see warm open spaces, with a refreshing invitation of freedom, in Atlanta.

I see buildings differentiated by styles in Atlanta.

I see history imprinted in the streets of Atlanta.

Happiness in pounds

It appears a near irrefutable truth that people are unrelentingly determined to judge each other by any reason they deem necessary. First impressions can be tough, but in some cases, they can also be superficially shallow. In some circles, I’ve had the opportunity to note, happiness is assessed by a person’s weight.

It seems that one is much likelier to present the notion of being happy if they can limit the number of digits to their weight. Being easy on the eyes gives people the idea that one has fewer troubles to deal with. So if one is considered, dare I say… (in a low whisper) obese, it just may be cause for pitchforks. For who could ever imagine that a person who is not skinny, thin, bony, scrawny, slender, trim, lean… wait, where was I going with this? Oh yes, apparently for some, happiness is in the eye of the scale you stand on.

Magazines, TV shows, newspapers ad, televised commercials, and a large number of movies feed and nourish the conception that weight is one of the things that will determine your chances of being happy. Under the belief that they have the right to judge, those who buy this concept are encouraged to scrutinize one another. Being thin means you are nearing the finish line, ever closer to achieving happiness. Being anything other than thin means you are far out of reach of ever being remotely happy. Poor you. Fortunately, if you change and slim and shape yourself into the role of Fitness Barbie or Ken, you may redeem yourself.

It almost never fails to surprise me how consistently people look for things to criticize in others. It’s as if differences are used to stand apart, dividing people into those who believe are superior and the ones they think are inferior. In this case, whether being cautious of one’s weight is a result of popular culture or an obsessive vanity to comply with society’s demands, in the end, it all seems to have an almost frightful effect on human nature. If people are willing to cut each other down because of the span of their waistline, then it appears we are no better than starving vultures circling a desert sky, waiting for our prey to kick up their feet and cry uncle.

It does seem fortunate then that happiness is not in the hands of those interested in selling it. Albert Camus puts it like this: what is happiness except the simple harmony between a man and the life he leads? What harmony is there in a life lead by superficial appearances that cast a shadow of constant insecurity? Why put yourself through such an exhausting and unrewarding practice? Instead of placing your happiness in someone else's hands, and letting them be the judge, why not make the decision yourself? Most people are about as happy as they make up their minds to be – so Abraham Lincoln said. Will you choose to be happy?

By: V.S

A closer look at Ohio

How do I find myself in Ohio, I wondered on the plane. I’ve never before traveled to this state. I haven’t heard much about it, other than having relatives that reside there. Unexpected circumstances have me settling in for a lengthy visit. And with mounting uncertainty, I quit the airport, with little option but to hope that my stay is pleasant and productive in some way.

Upon my first week, I made my conclusions about Ohio… It is spooky. I wake up in the morning and clouds obscure the sky, making it impossible to determine the time. It’s quiet. The neighborhood where I stay seems almost abandoned, as though all the residents have hibernated for the winter. It’s cold. I might easily be confused for the homeless, for three layers of clothing are barely enough to keep me warm. Looking out the window, the streets and sidewalks are still, without movement, except for the wind grazing the leafless trees. It almost seems like the world is mute, and, like a picture, it is caught frozen in time. At a distance, I see nothing but the promise of fog. With little comfort, I am reminded of the eerie town of Sleepy Hollow. It is just as smoggy here in Ohio. Not exactly depressing, but definitely cause to beware of headless-horsemen.

Afternoon descends and I can hardly detect the difference. There is no altering indication of its arrival. No signs of activity. Not a speck of sunshine. There is just a dull grey that hovers with no inclination to leave. However, I notice the streets are clean, almost consciously so. Trees and frozen ponds faithfully straddle the driven roads. Buildings aren’t cluttered by other buildings. Geese constantly fly overhead, from one end of the sky to the other. And no hordes of people tangle together, except to a 24/7sanctuary too overpowering for any man to refuse (or so it seems): WAL-MART. People pour in and pour out like zombies, not socializing, not conversing; they seem to be on a mission, too drawn into themselves to speak to those around them.

I can tell it’s nighttime now, only because the sky darkens. I rejoice in this sign of normalcy, even if clouds conceal anything beyond. Not much changes at night, other than the temperature offering to drop lower or the fall of snow. The former condition simply makes the cold air cut clear through clothing, while the latter, makes the ground and surroundings glow white. It’s pretty on the eyes but harsh on the skin.

During my time here, I was able to draw a pretty stable point of view. The best part of Ohio was the company I was with, and the enjoyably diverse activities we found - once willing to leave the house and face the weather. I also discovered there is fun to be had indoors as well, if one is enthusiastic enough to come up with games. This trip began as a last minute result, something sudden and unexpected, but it ended reluctantly and all too quickly in my opinion. Ohio may not have been on my list of places-to-go, but it is now on my list of places-to-remember.

By: V.S

A man once said: “Until you do exactly as I’ve done in life, you can never have my happiness.”

And I replied: “Thank you, but I don’t want your happiness… I want my own.”

Nature is calling...