Invincible
I’m watching Invincible.
Normally I wouldn’t give two flying fucks about a goddam sports movie.
But… it was the Eagles- it was Mark Wahlberg, it was Philly.
And it’s inspiring.
And our hero is all too real-
And his neighborhood.. reminds me of my little lives past.
And it makes me miss my Pennsylvania girl.
The one who made me watch Football in a bar for the first time in my life.
I miss the city.
I miss Boston.
I miss what I saw of Philly.
I miss walking into a house falling down.
I miss poverty, the fucked up walls in a house run by slumlords who won’t turn up the heat in winter.
People liek Fred Ficken who you call complaining that you’re freezing to death and they have the fucking nerve to walk into your apartment unannounced and look around pause and say ‘no, it’s not cold here..’.
I miss the endless three story row houses in Mission Hill.
The roads of Roxbury.
I miss the miles of city.
The hummanity uncontrolled.
Forgotten but it still lives.
I miss the night time.
Walking alone because I have nowhere to go, for in my mind I have had a moment of clarity in which ‘home’ is only … only where my feet may be standing on at a given moment.
I miss.
