One of my biggest problems/or specialties is the ability to enter escapism. To be honest this only occurs in my sleep. Ironically, nobody complains about this particular dilemma I have to deal with. For the sake of future rambling let me tell you a story.
I don't remember the exact day of the last straw, but I know that it was definitely around/or during the winter. From what I remember my room and my whole apartment was clean. This is usually the case when guess come over. One could guess if a mother's touch helped.
While putting the finishing touches on my room I hear a knock on the door. Being the closet one my mom goes to answer the door. The guess that enter our apartment were suppose to be our "assumed" relatives from somewhere down south (possibly). Although confused about who these people were and where they came from, they did have some big ass suitcases. I know that though.
After about five minutes of trying to figure things out I go and greet our guess. It all went well with a set of smiles. As a New Yorker this form of curtesy is considered strange and foreign. For the time being things were going smoothly.
Nothing good is never meant to last. My aunt joins in on the festivities (or at least tries too).
Suddenly a feeling of unease comes over me. Instead of reading a book or write in one of my journals, I start to count some money. This little bundle of cash must've been something I earned working at either NYCHA (New York City Housing Authority) or sanitation. Yeah, I was just sitting by my door just counting. It was nothing 20's too. Damn I must've hit the jackpot.
Good grieve, the minute I hit escapism something a disturbance always occurs. Some kind of commotion in the front has taken place. Right when I expected it my name is called. Not even close to my aunts location bickers about how slack I am and how I don't do enough armed the house that I lay my head (the nerve right?).
Since my very existence this aunt in particular has ben very critical of me, even for the simplest of things. She tends to like things done her way, anything otherwise will be the highway. However, she seems not to understand that everybody will not see and do things the exact way as you. There should be no room for critiquing your own nephew, even when you have a hard time with him.
Already in a not so good mood things would get much worst. As I turn my head to the right my stomach would do a 360. The sight I witnessed is too gruesome to explain in detail. Let's just say that Mini-Me was piping a whale of a woman.
Sitting in a sloop of discomfort, anger, and depression I knew what I had to do. A great escape had to take place.
On the drop of a dime I pack some things in a book bag (including a journal of mine). Put on some crappy clothes (a pair of paint stained pants being apart of the outfit). In a nice wide side pocket the bundle of money was placed and stored. To simply put it I needed to seek The Holy Land because Babylon was killing me (internally).
My head spinning in multiple directions I decided to take the 2 train going uptown that would connect to the Bx.16.
While riding the Bx.16 I noticed that after about two minutes and a half the atmosphere took a smooth shift. This shift would go from the average inner-city costume to a metropolis paradise. Does this sound familiar? It seemed as if the inner-city and it's citizen's will be swallowed up sooner or later.
Getting off at my destination I approached a unique housing complex. This complex was not your average one that both me and you are accustomed to experiencing or walking through. The buildings seemed to remind me of the ones I would see in Tribeca and mid-town. Don't pay attention to the reminiscing, it was just an afterthought.
Looking back I don't know what it was, or the circumstances, but I didn't know how to contact a receptionist so I could pay for a room to stay in. The hand of God must've been helping me on my greatest escape. Fortunately, I bumped into one of the cutest set of little kids. These two were definitely brother and sister. Mind you I'm 24 and still in a decent shape, but those kids were some professional sprinters. Nothing but huffing and buffing following behind the future sibling sprinting duo.
Exhausted and trying to catch my breathe the two siblings and myself have made our way to the receptionist desk.
Finally catching my breathe I intended to tell the little stars in the making thank you. However, a tall black man lightly barges on the scene as if he was their father. Taking the words out of my mouth the sister winks at me, as to say no problem sir. Their father gives them a signal and their outfits change into beautiful white African robes as they fly away.
Hopeful but still uncertain I head to the receptionist desk. Working behind the desk was a young lady about the age of 23. She had an average weight and height. Her hair was straight and long. The tone of her skin was light, not in a pale sense but the vanilla bean type. In the co-op's employee's uniform shorty was bad.
Using a polite and professional tone I asked the young lady for instructions as to how I could get a room for a day or two. Pointing her finger in the direction in back of me she kindly told me to take hold of a machine that deals with purchasing a room of my choice (or whatever is available). The closet I go to the machines I noticed that each one starts to resemble a door. At that moment I was confused and did not know whether to open a door or to just stand there with egg on my face. Out of three doors that were the nearest I picked the one in front of me. As I pulled the door open a harsh wind came blowing recklessly. My hands started to shake and my mind went blank. Everything goes black.
Wait a minute. I forgot to tell you to open you eyes. It was only a dream.
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