The Intoxication of the Streets of my World

My ability to survive in these surroundings has reached its limits, as I move from one place to another I feel death creeps into my veins, poisoning the dark blood inside it, leaving my nervous system separated from the real world, like myself.

I struggle every morning as I depart from my sweet single bed, knowing that it is my only shelter that keeps me from others. My sanctuary when I feel in need of protection, and the place where I regain my powers after a long day of survival. Still, departing has become a daily necessity, like a mother leaving her child to let him find his chances through life, so hard is the separation, but so important at the same time. For the advantage of the both parties.

After I put on my dark shaded clothes I check myself for five seconds at the mirror, to remind myself who I am, and in what face people will see me today, then I am good to go. No pretty face can hide those features of my dead spirit, but I do know how to trick people with that false smile, yes a smile can do the impossible, not for me, but for those people who can see nothing but appearances, those who look at you while you talk, when they should be listening. I pity that specie.

As I walk to find the bus station. I stand, feeling attached to that tall street light, who has nothing to do all day long, except when the dark side of the world shows up. Its life has a meaning only with darkness, and light only means that time of day when it sees itself useless, an object that can be ignored. I look at its way of standing there, I envy it! How come it stands here alone, all the time, without being bothered by all that crowd that I have to keep up with, daily. Then I lower my head, I remember that there is an air that I have to breathe in order to feel alive, and my heart can function. A deep breath. While taking that air in I can feel no voice, and letting it out is like allowing the universe to interfere again, can't I be in my own world for more than bits of second! I'm afraid not. The horrible smoke of my bus brought horrid visions to my head. Yes it is time to be armored. Get set. GO!

I always find the little comfort that I can buy in this place is with a breeze of air touching my pale skin, reminding me to breathe, and telling me to forget those intoxicating voices which are full of bitterness, negativity, and sickness. The air is a chance for me to clean my brain, my heart, and my eyes from all those. The crowd grabs my lonely hearing with an iron grasp. Their noise suffocate my lungs, I feel a ghostly presence. I think I will blackout any second, is there an empty place to regain my strength!

I step out of that torture box reminds me of the feeling of the first's mans step on the moon, a small step for a man, but big for a nation, it is a small step out of that bus, but big for my poor heart, after trying to survive in an echo sounded cave.

Walking into that gate where I am supposed to meet more of many people who exist to add more noise to the world of mine, where is the mute button when one needs it! What startles me is that curiosity in people's eyes...is there a good reason why do they stare like that? It gives the most annoying feeling to my head. A headache of the worst kind, the kind that reminds you of being sick because you just knew that you have been sleeping for the last 15 hours. A bad realization if you ask me.

Now, more noise. Why cannot people stay in silence when they have nothing to talk about? I can hear their talk, it is pointless...ummm..I'm not sure, but do they really hear themselves or they think that they are saying something entirely different. I wish that was true, because what I can hear is a double misuse for the organs that we were given. They sure gonna complain someday! Poor thing.

When I sit with a group, which is something I partialy despise, not because of the type of people, but because of the noise that gonna be created. In addition to this, this intruding for the space limits around me, they cannot use the place of my aura, it is my aura's, where I am supposed to place it then! But I honestly cannot say that out loud. Do I care what people will think? Of course not, they just won't understand a word. My mistake or may be there's, who cares.

They blame me when I sit around them in silence. But they do not know that I hear no silence here. I am busy with my thoughts. These moments cannot be wasted without thinking about them, I am using the spareness of those wasted moments in something good. I wish to know that good.

Time to get back home. To my faithful companion which I departed in early time today and I have all the love that I did not waste on any one, only for him. I lay there, feeling like I am getting out all that I have been through today, to be absorbed by that single mattress. Who knows how much is inside already! I don't even want to think about that. Poor incidents of life that have to struggle from the people, to the people, then to be wasted on dead objects that know nothing of what they intend. Their energies are wasted on nothing everyday, it is like they are cutting of slices of small body parts everyday, to feed that monster, who happens to be vegetarian. Life's an irony!

And as I manage to close my eyes, missing the darkness offered by my lids. Kids shouting at the streets, creeping little shouts inside my ear. A day can never end.