Enter the street
PalmFor many of us—we are one—the street is a hostile place, a chaos that the passage of time and the loss of youthful strength makes difficult to endure. The noise, the crowds, the lack of space, the rush, the shouts, the cars, the asphalt... It's becoming increasingly difficult for me to leave the house without looking like a terrified animal. The door that separates me from the outside is the wall that grants me some measure of calm, and when it opens, it spits me out into an environment I don't recognize as my own; it's not welcoming, it hurts.
Leaving home and entering the world becomes more complicated every day, and it would be very hard to do so without objects that have gone from whim to necessity. Entering the jungle barefoot isn't the same as entering the jungle with headphones, thanks to which a piano helps me maintain minimal barriers.
I watched people walking aimlessly, looking in shop windows. Or speeding along with their heads down. Or booing on a phone screen where someone gives them a smile, if they're lucky. People with relaxed faces, no tension in their eyes, make me envious. There's someone like me, too, and we limit ourselves to exchanging furtive glances so as not to stray from our mission: to leave the street as quickly as possible.
Going out is no longer synonymous with 'going out,' but rather entering a kind of artificial hell that distresses me. Going out is going to a place where I can breathe, with trees, birds, and the rhythm of my footsteps. On the street, we no longer hear our footsteps. Nor do we understand the voices around us. Millions of words skitter over our skin with no other meaning than to fill any gap left. Any strand of air.
If you're really distracted on the street, someone might shove you, because there are absurd rules that must be followed, imaginary lanes from which you can't leave. Everything is arranged so that the flow of bodies can flow without jams. And if they push you, they won't apologize.
On the street, you can't see beyond the shop windows full of attractive offers and advertisements. On the street, there is no horizon, no line separating heaven and earth. It's like a hotbed where everyone does their job without thinking, where no one leaves their assigned line.
That's why some people get angry when someone decides to make extravagant use of the street. The homeless, the protesters, the children with the ball, the elderly people walking slowly are all disruptive elements that hinder the legitimate dynamics of the rest of the ants.