Subway Thoughts

Is it bad that I publicly write about things going on in life?

...

Should I follow the words of wise sage Bill O'Reilly and 'Keep it Pithy'?
(Read that comment sarcastically if you wish...)

Stop doing this whole prooose thing...?

I have this handy little app on my phone - used mostly when I'm bored underground on the subway and my Spotify and Pandora won't play anymore - called Evernote. As you can imagine, I sometimes like to write - I even like to write things that not everyone can see. (Oh please stop gasping.) These notes are done clumsily with my thumbs on a jerky train, surrounded by people I'm always certain are reading my private, innermost thoughts!!! 

Then I get all agitated and draw it in closer to my chest, typing furiously. Usually I wind up with ridiculous-looking paragraphs including words like "Sahara" and "Bahamas" and "Thwarted," because autotype thinks I live a much fancier lifestyle than I do. Then, as soon as the train emerges from underground with an almost-audible inhale, like coming out of the deep, dark ocean, I promptly forget about whatever it is I just typed.

A lot of random moments have gone down in that app.

Bored, and underground tonight, I started doing the unspeakable and... read them all back. "Hmmm what was I thinking on this very N train on October 18th, 2012?" I wondered as I scrolled dangerously through. I was suddenly wrapped into the oddest-looking year, in 2-paragraph Evernote entries, filled with typos and belligerence and addictive as popcorn.

I wrote about the homeless lady who always uses empty pales and subway poles to create her own lethargic "Stomp" routine.
I wrote about romantic encounters and bad dates (and, of course... good dates).
I wrote about how summer is my favorite subway people-watching time of year.
Sometimes I wrote about Lynn. Sometimes I wrote about Grandpa. Sometimes I wrote about other losses.
I wrote a lot about my worries-of-the-day: "What if I got the wrong flight info?" "When am I going to get back upstate?" "I know the top two buttons of my shirt are popped open underneath my purse strap..."
I wrote a lot of to-do lists.

Obviously most of these thoughts I will never publish, but the glimpses into what my mind does during that 'black hole' span of time are equally as disturbing as they are sometimes remarkably on point for what I am seeing that day. And it made me realized how much more can be said in just two paragraphs than these silly, sprawling passages I sometimes agonize over.