• dr. tortoise

A Short Plane Ride

Updated: Mar 2

Long straight roads touch the horizon. Hollow store fronts no longer speak. Motors gave life to the streets. I feel so slow walking as the cars whoosh by me. I don’t have a car, but this is motor city. But I manage and hop on the bus. Riding the bus has been smooth with little traffic. Only the glow of red from the traffic light slowed us down. I’ve heard of life here. It thrived until the city’s economy burst like a bubble sending everyone out, leaving behind brick and mortars. I hop off the bus and the cloudless deep blue sky echoed the emptiness of the lonely building across the street with only the imprints of what used to say “CVS/pharmacy”. Anything you have ever owned is used on Heidelberg. An old VW beetle-esque dormant on the grass. On the roof rested a lawn mower and a ceramic goose with a green bead necklace like a St. Patrick’s Day party I used to have in elementary school. Painted sneakers create a 10 foot mountain with a plastic angel looking over me like a shrine. Pieces of wood with numbers and hands painted on. Making you question what time is it? Or what are we doing with our time? why do i write? It was so much to process. There was so much open space from all the houses being burned or torn down. Later that day, he told me the only reason to come downtown before was to pick up drugs. Now he works downtown at a quicken loans family company with their building in the heart of it all. Now beautiful murals can be seen all around initiating change and vibrancy. It’s Saturday night and the industrial center towered over me. We went through the first door we could find and started on the second floor. Long hallways mimicked the roads and only a few rooms had doors and locks. You could easily get lost in here alongside with someone old clothes and a pile of human shit. Tags alongside murals covered the walls inside empty rooms where it looked like people’s egos have died. We moved on into the next 6 floored warehouse just 10 feet away to explore. Bass phased through the walls as we climbed one last flight of stairs to catch stares from people smoking outside the venue. Next to them was a dumpster where mannequins hung upside down. Electronic music and smoke welcomed us. Various artist played Rap, House, and Dubstep in this high haven as we sank into black leather couches with a Fireball neat that the dumpster ends up tossing to the ground. I yell at this guy about my past Halloween costumes, His hoodie tells me he was Superman. We walked back to our couch and talked. Talked about how the fuck we got here. Talked about our problems. Talked about who we are and who people think we are. Talked about religion and... I roll another cigarette as my lungs scream at me. I made the realization of how bitter sweet this all was, I lean in to cuddle as time marches on.


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