witness

 there's something about living on the corner of a highway intersection.

during the night, and when it's really early and relatively calm, there's a whole living background of birds and trees living the best lives they can, enjoying every peaceful moment's pause from the polluting intensity in a world that's not built for them.

when it's busy, the constant intersecting streams of humanity, people transitioning into or out of their work forms, people checking into and out of the present, each in their own way, no one as present or mindful as those with sirens blaring, horns honking, or taking that dramatic step back from a near-road-death experience.

here i sit, the background to the background but also the star of my own drama, perpetually transitioning into and out of my own modes and states of being as countless other worlds pass me by.