N and I headed towards the jungle gym first, and then, sliding off it made a beeline for the swings. Where we sat for the longest time swinging higher and higher, and talking about many things (fools and kings). The experience was somewhat surreal, I admit. Swinging in a random park populated by druggies and hobos is not exactly modus operandi. That said, I have no idea why it's not. There's something so utterly entrancing about the act of sitting on a jhoola and propelling your body up, letting the force take you down, propelling it up again and again and again until you're engaged in an infantile (but totally sensible) game to beat the distance traveled by your partner's shadow. I won ofcourse. If N thinks otherwise, he's as cuckoo as the hobo soliloquizing on the jungle gym.
May 21, 2010
Metaphors aside, I don't know how long its been since I entered an actual playground. Last night, a friend and I had a harebrained notion at 2:00am that it would be a good idea to watch stars (since the night was clear after a long-long time). Knowing that work-tomorrow would interfere with best laid plans, we decided to eschew the more effective route of climbing up mountains (or break into rooftops) and decided to head towards the park-behind-my-building. In theory it was a great idea, in practice - however - floodlights promptly drowned out all access to the sky. We found ourself at 2:15ish minus all stars but plus one park, a group of teenage boys (very stoned) and a homeless bum sleeping on the park bench in a very corpse-ish kind of way.