Chaotic World
Walking alone on the road, like a lion. Silently, fighting in my head. Walking alone like a lion among sheep, surrounded by chaos. Listening to the echos of humans trivialities, as they shouting and mumbling, whistling and whispering. Giggling weed and protocol.
Pretending they alive.
"Spare a quarter Ms, spare a quarter Sir" the homeless says, as I pass him by with yellowed smile under my skin, like shriveled flower. "Sorry" I said, in my chaotic head. I'm either in a rush or too busy to dig-in into my messy pocket searching in for a quarter. In my pocket, I've got gums to chew on after smoking a cigarette, so people do not smell the smoke coming out of my mouth, because I like to appear neat and clean. So I keep the smoke onto my lungs. I've got napkins to wipe away the sweat on my forehead when I go for a walk and starting to sweat. I knew it's gonna be a long walk, and I'll sweat.
Sorry homeless man, but I'm too busy. In fact, I'm uncertainly too busy. Too busy with monitoring the traffic light as it turns green-yellow-red... red-yellow-green... yellow-red-green, and so on... There's no enough time to uplift my arm and dig-in my fingers into my messy pocket looking for a quarter. I'm too busy in my head, while my eyes screwing around with a sexy blonde female walking towards me. See, I'm a huge fan of the blonde hair with green and blue eyes, and orangey-skin, like an Irish cake just came out of the sun, like sun-pie after swimming in the ocean and the ocean turned her eyes blue. And no, I would never betray the green eyes, the eyes who carrying the pureness of wilderness and kindness within, hell! I am lost in green. Neither call me racist though, I'm a lover of art that resembled in women body and soul of all colors and shapes, like flowers. I'm an art lover who addicted to green. I'll tell you more about the 'Green Moon' later as you walk with me.
Meanwhile, I'll walk along with the quarter still in my pocket reminds me of the homeless man, and watch for the traffic while my eyes crossing each other and rolling all over the sidewalk. On the side-walk I would watch her seductive legs that decorated with high heels and short skirt, as my hormones flushing through my veins, wanting to jump out of my pants and climb up on her smooth, silky mountains in those tight jeans or yoga pants, that shines and bright like diamonds under the sunlight. "Thanks yoga pants!" I said, I've become an animal.... Or I am?!
Man... I'm a lion with many skills if you'd see, but I do not do well in circus. I was born king crowned with dignity, honour, honesty, and heart-- burning and glowing with love. I was born wild in wilderness, skillfully and bravely hunt down my prey. But my roars from long-distance running them away from me before I even get there. It's so hard to get a chance to express my love for the other animals. Look, if my roars scare you, I'm sorry! but I don't know pretend. Although, I'm trying to fit-in in circus. And maybe you can make me jump through fire rings and dance on two feet, like humans. Though, you'd be my prey if you'd find your way to my den, and believe me! You will love it. Because, nowhere like home.
But what's reality anymore, in circus? I waxed my eyebrows, and built-up some muscles to impress. I faked a smile on my face, like a piece of art on the wall, covering the cracks. And she poured off bunch of mixed up powders and colorful paints on her face. Covered up the blemishes under her eyes, re-shaped her eyelashes, and drew an artificial smile on her lips. Values are lost. Blended with the low price, and highly paid the cost. Sights... or maybe we both trying to cover the scars.
"It's called life" they said, a modern life? Well thanks to modern technology, and brainwash machine called TV, that taught us the standards of beauty dwells "On" our skin, and the standards of beauty is being a model. Eat like a model, dress-up like a model, and walk like a model. Become a model. They even thought that our genital parts should become a model, too, so they invented summer's eve. And of course, varieties of condoms of all flavors and colors. Thanks, again!
Life is like a TV show and everyone is invited, whether they like it or not. And no matter how good or bad at acting you are, they have got a role for you. They have got a role for everyone, and everyone will follow the script. Here's a chapter from the script: black being black, white acting white, and the brown just happy to be in between. But, human! Maybe you know that it is mandatory being on the show, but have you ever thought of who running the show and writing the script? Have you actually thought that there global, I mean... universal issues are much deeper than racism? That should be your priority, rather than feeding on each other's blood like vampires. That without them our life would be much better and easier. peaceful! And the other issues on the surface like racism and sex-discrimination, etc... which you're fighting for, they even, won't be exist in the first place! If you'd cut the roots. Have you really read the script carefully and understood the terms and conditions? Ok, maybe you don't know what I'm talking about. Hint? Capitalism. Look, I don't know you, human, I don't know how much do you know. But, I do know that everyone is playing their role. And I'm playing mine too.
I carry-on. Keep walking. My head like a hard drive stores the stories, the stories that I'm gathering with each footstep, as I carry my heavy backpack on my shoulders along with my own story, like identification and declaration to 'Circus City Membership,' like warrior shield and badge of honour as circus survival, and also a "Get-away" token from the tourist tour ticket sellers "don't you dare selling me! I am a worrier from this army" I said, as I swiftly pass them by with solid and determined eye looking straight ahead on the road. I know where I'm going. We all are sold.
Vroom, Vroom, Vroom, the sound of the winds while I'm passing through the crowd, while dodging from left to right, leaning my shoulders here and there, like a lion dancing on circus melody. When two-three steps ahead are direct and clear I feel like a Ferrari on the highway, but I know it's circus, not a highway. Therefore, I would look straight ahead on the road to make sure the way is clear, for more security before I switch to full speed, then I find a heavy-headed truck running on the opposite direction, towards me! So I lean my shoulders in both directions. Left, he follows. Right, he follows. The heavy-headed truck doesn't seem to read my signals, neither I would go full stop. Instead, I would push a little bit more of gas and turn my shoulders ahead instead of my chest, and squeeze-in. I finally make it through while my butt squeezing against coffee shop door, deli store door, liquor store door, or just a wall, and often against another acrobatic`s.
I'm like half mile away from crossing the street, and make it to the other side! I HAVE to make it to the other side. I've been walking for so long now, alone, on my bare feet. I'm so exhausted, but my eyes fully attention! One on the traffic screen as it counts down 9,8,7... and one on the road like sword splashing onto the air, always ready! To dodge the upcomings, and one in my head visualizing and analyzing the distance. Almost there, almost there, almost... and all of a sudden! A phoney human-like coming out of nowhere, to bump into me. Seriously! Dude... well, that's great, I now have to wait for about 10 seconds more till the light turns green, again! What a waste of time! I just lost 10 seconds while trying to kill some hours, because they're useless.
Funny... I'm too busy even in my spare times. Guess I just used to it, I used to it that I became an expert time killer. Although, I'm not really free but busy, busy with drowning in my own chaotic head, like the abandoned city. Noisy in silence, after the soul departed and went to wandering in the landscape. Looking for its lost shatters in the moonlight.
"It's called life" I remind myself, swim or dive. Or fly if you have to, to survive. Well... I did fly! I flew across the landscapes from the harsh desert to the deep ocean, and fell into the 'Green Moon.' I thought the moon was filled with water and ice, but this one was filled of pain and suffer, filled of wildness and childish heart. Stories, and childhood just like mine! Grown too soon. Wasted in the deep ocean like Titanic. I saw my picture in them like, a mirror reflection. My soul wanted to reach out and gather the fragments that belongs to me. I was looking for them since forever! But then, I tell myself, it's too far away, out of my reach. I knew it was too far from my reach. Although, my stubborn soul did not obey me, he said, "souls meant to be free." And sank into the moon instead of becoming a whole, as long as I yearned for. And ever since I've become nothing but lost shatters into the moonlight, and I've lost my soul, too.
Who am I anymore but a little bird with broken wings walking on the sidewalk, with footsteps pushes one another towards the wall, to avoid eye contacts, to hide the broken wings in its eyes. Walking in circus, inhaling dust from the past, bleeding from the long journey and scars, and exhaling pain. Sings sorrow from the heartache.
Who am I? But a homeless looking for a spare quarter of happiness in a poor world.
My chaotic world.