"We stand in the middle of infinity between outer and inner space, and there's no limit to either."
- Fantastic Voyage
The Chicago Diaries, Addendum
Something I meant to write while I was in Chicago, but never got around to it, so I'll write it now. Just a few quick thoughts on something.
While in Chicago I had two main activities when I was by myself during the day. Mostly I watched movies. I had my mother rent me a bunch of really hard to find movies on my lists from the library where she works. I must admit, this library has a really impressive film library. So she checked out 12 movies and I watched them during my 7 day trip. That's quite a bit of film watching, especially considering at least 3 movies were over 3 hours long. My other main activity was taking my portfolio and driving to the lakes I used to fish at when I was young. This is what accounts for the previous writing.
What I find incredibly interesting is the fact that when I was sitting in my mother's boyfriend's den watching movies I felt kind of like a waste of space. I mean, I was on vacation, and what was I doing? Sitting in a room watching movies, exactly what I would have done had I stayed in Georgia. But when I went out to the lakes I felt somewhat productive. Which is just stupid because all I was doing was sitting there writing in my portfolio. And not even anything important, just my thoughts. It's mental mestrubation, is what it is. Besides, it's not like I was watching Diehard, I was watching some seriously hard to find movies, stuff like the 1932 version of Scarface, Sunrise: a Song of Two Humans by F.W. Murnau, Stormy Weather (which is the movie that prooves Cab Calloway is the single coolest human ever to live). Objectively, there really isn't much difference between the two activities. They both are just killing time in an easy manner. But I felt better about what I was doing when I was on the lakes. Maybe it's just because I was physically someplace I couldn't usually be, whereas the den was ancillary. Seems odd.
Briefly, I also find it odd that I spent so much time reminiscing about my past this trip. Afterall, I was in Chicago just 6 months before. Maybe it's something about winter in Chicago; it's so insular, so internal and closed. Didn't get out enough to see what I had forgotten. Memories are strange things.
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