The Weight of
Ordinary Things

A suffocating weight pressed down on me as my routine unraveled, turning the mundane into something monumental. The ache in my tooth intensified the discomfort, each throb a reminder that the walls were closing in. I needed to walk it off.

I stepped outside, letting the street consume me. A few blocks later, I passed a group loitering on the corner. Their eyes darted, sharp with tension and restless energy. I wanted no part of whatever they were doing. Stay the hell away from me, I thought, quickening my pace, my grip tightening on my camera.

The usual crowd buzzed around the bus stop, the air thick with an unpleasant stench. Mopeds zipped past, likely from the same assholes who’d woken me up in the middle of the night.

I noticed a heavyset guy being shoved out of a seafood shop. Shirtless, red-faced, he hurled a bag of clams onto the street, screaming some incoherent rant.

“Yeah, you and me both, brah,” I muttered.

For a moment, the scene slowed in my mind, the chaos frozen before the world snapped back to motion. People resumed their routines as if nothing had happened, like they were saying, What’s new?

I framed shots, capturing the vibrant chaos of the streets—sunlight glinting off buildings, reflections dancing on windows. It was my escape from the grind.

Hours slipped by under the oppressive October sun. My stomach growled, a sharp reminder of reality. Irony. The only thing I could count on was my hunger. I ducked into an udon shop, the rich scent of broth enveloping me like a warm embrace. The noodles soothed the gnawing discomfort in my gut, but my mind raced. How long can I keep this up? When will I break free from this cycle?

Eating, once a simple pleasure, had become just another distraction. I sat there, lost in thought, unease settling in my chest. With a deep sigh, I leaned back, letting some frustration lift—if only for a moment. Grabbing my camera again, I prepared to capture the world in all its chaotic glory. It wasn’t clarity I was after, and the weight of my responsibilities still hung over me, but for now, it was enough.

Damn it, I need to cut back on these carbs!

Photographs & Drawings by Max C. Kim

Disclaimer
© Max C. Kim/Bad Moon Saloon.
All rights reserved.

Urban Walkabout: A Day in the Town