Week 36

I've tried and failed to keep a diary all year. For reason unbeknownst to me, I've been putting it off rather blatantly. I suppose that's my brain signaling me that life hasn't been worth documenting lately. What is there to capture, when I've been sucked into the limitless void of confounding routine, with no way out? So what if I can no longer remember what I did on April 17th, or what I ate on the first Wednesday in June?

That, in short, would be terrifying. Hence why I am hastily jutting down random musings during my subway ride.

There's something inexplicably powerful about missing your subway by mere inches, and that's what awaited me this morning. The next train was two minutes away, but felt like an eternity in the agonizing morning rush. I stood idly looking at the giant posters that took up the center view, and looked for my own marker. It took me longer than I'd like to admit that my Beyonce & Jay Z Cartier poster disappeared. Goodbye, getting off perfectly in front of the staircase, hello, test subject #1.
You'd think my motor skills would kick in, and guide me to the right one effortlessly, but all I saw were a slew of Tom Clancy's Jack Ryan posters, looking dumbfounded right back at me.

There are new shows and movies churning out weekly, you think they'd try to change it up a little for the commuters.

After months of subtle brain washing, I tuned into Jack Ryan during labor day weekend, along with millions of others who might have gone through similar imprinting. That, or we all find John Krasinski dripping with charm. The premise is straightforward enough. An ex marine who was honorably discharged from a terrible incident, had secured a desk job in the CIA shortly after. Unfortunately, the war followed him back from Afghanistan, in the form of lone suffering, both physically and emotionally. Still, John (or in this case, Jack) trudges on in his daily, insignificant analyst life, until one day, he finds an anomaly. The rest is history, and could be played confidently by any of the Chrises, or let's face it, Tom Cruise. As much as my unrequited love for John is, my sneaking suspicion that he seemed slightly off for this role grew as I clicked the next episode. Perhaps this was Tom Clancy's nod at John (another John!) Le Carre's diffident soldier, George Smiley, brilliantly portrayed by Gary Oldman. Perhaps the awkwardness is intentional. Or maybe John is simply not a method actor like Daniel-Day Lewis.

What the show deviated from the usual superhero doesn't always wear a cape gag, is that it tried to humanize the villains. It spends a good chunk of the episode giving the anti heroes a solid back story, and it goes on retorting that no one is merely born as bad; it is the environment that will ultimately change a person. Family and friends can turn into foes with one move, enemies will unite under the same cause. Despite an astounding amount of research suggesting otherwise, we humans are rather complicated beings, with convoluted emotions and behaviors that can be triggered, or manipulated. I can only hope the writers stay afloat.

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This afternoon, as I try to shuffle three bags of groceries under my seat, a mother and son duo sat next to me on the subway. It was 92 degrees, but felt like 100. Even in the midst of air conditioning, I felt the boy's heat immediately. As he fidgeted with his US Open memorabilia, I marveled at how much heat a tiny little human can emit. Surely his mother, who sat in the beating sun for hours, felt the same? I glanced at her curiously under the guise of massaging my sore neck, and watched her yap away on her giant phone. And I finally caught it. The here one second, gone the next micro expression of dread, when she gestured her son to sit still with her hand, the other still firmly attached to her phone.

I swallowed a smile. It's impossible not to be affected by the heat, no matter who you are.