i was coming back from college, bored, listening to music on my tiny knockoff airpods. my commute usually takes about 1 hour, depending on whether or not the buses decide to run on time (most of the time they don´t.)
as soon as i got to my stop, i woke up the sleeping guy next to me so he could let me get out of my window seat, and as i walked from the narrow bus corridor onto the street, i felt drained from having been at uni all day and at the same time, unproductive. like i hadn't done enough.
i'm used to that paradoxical feeling by now, but it hasn't always been this way. i used to be able to go from school straight home, where i would play alone for hours, without a hint of self deprecation in my mind. i didn't think i was wasting my time. i didn't think i should be doing something more useful. i just played with whatever was available for me: first my dolls, then my nintendo ds, and then, my very own computer.
and while part of me wants to blame it on social media like a boomer, and while it's true that being stuck in a doom scrolling spiral every other day does not help, i think that lingering feeling of guilt is just part of growing up, in a way. you get off from work, and still you have to do things, you have to be a productive member of society at all times. even your hobbies have to be profitable now. relaxing all year round is a luxury reserved to few, while most of us have to settle for the weekends and 7 days of paid vacation (if you get to be so lucky.)
so, the first thing i did when i walked away from the bus stop was buying myself a sundae. i thought it would cheer me up, that it would distract me from that guilt, and while it helped, what truly worked was the simple act of taking a walk home instead of taking a second, shorter bus ride home, which is what i normally do.
my neighbourhood is ugly. im not going to be dishonest here and tell you i live in a beautiful suburb surrounded by gorgeous architectural masterpieces. no, the place i live in is objectively, kinda ugly.
the houses are regular, boring apartment buildings that were created between the 1970s and the early 2000s for working class families that either lived in shacks or elsewhere. they don't have any remarkable features, to the point where a lot of them look pretty much the same. sometimes, the walls have graffitis that no one has bothered to clean up in years.
but here's the thing. to these people, and to me, it is home. the chinese restaurant that has been there as long as i've been alive, the corner stores, the playgrounds: all those things are so familiar, and walking through these streets, these plain, boring, ugly streets is as well. even if i don't personally know the grandma crossing the side walk over there, or the man jay walking in front of me, i know that i share these spaces with them, and that makes me happy in a way i don't know how to describe. so i don't want it to be a beautiful landscape, because then it wouldn't feel like the same place, it wouldn't feel real. in fact, i can only hope it never becomes pretty, because the minute the kebab shop gets turned into a minimalist coffee shop with exposed brick walls named "brewstop" is the minute an entire family gets evicted for not being able to pay rent.
later, i took a turn and found myself in a large park that i used to go to quite a lot as a kid, but that i hadn't been to in a while. it surprised me how it had stayed pretty much the same, though it shouldn't have given that not much changes over here.
the park is right next to a massive highway, one of the most important ones in madrid, and because of that there's a tall fence separating the two. the cynic in me thinks the city council only put a park here to make it seem like they give a shit about contamination, like somehow this measly patch of grass and trees would clean up all the junk created by hundreds of cars every single day. the romantic in me thinks its a great contrast, an interesting mix between the dull, grey city life and the lively touch of the natural world. of course, i tend to agree with the cynic.
it was quite empty there, and i only walked past a couple of strangers (and a few bunnies!) before leaving.
by the time i got home, the guilt i was previously dealing with had disappeared under the spring sun. and i know that this probably won't last forever, that maybe in a week i will be feeling exactly like i did when i stepped out of that bus. but i don't care. because i took myself out for a walk and dammnit i felt good afterwards, and i will repeat that process however many times i need to until i get it through my thick skull that i am allowed to simply exist without being productive.
that is all for now. bye!
