Wednesday, December 7, 2016

In sickness and in health

I hid in plain sight, under the street lamp, in the south corner of the city gardens. I sat down, right in front of Mr. Lopez's store, and just watched time, and some people, pass by. 
Inspite of the late hour, dozens of people walked the sidewalk yearning to get home. It was cold, winter was upon us, even though I felt it was upon me for years. 

No rain in days, making it almost umbearable to stay outside. But I dind't care too much about it. 

As if I deserved to endure this freezing weather. As if it were my punishment to be left out in the cold.

Funny. People kept on walking by, avoiding to look me in the eye, fearing I was some sort of image they never wanted to see. Like a mirror they did not dare to stare. I laughed inside and smikerd in defiance of their fear. No one would touch me even if I was cut open and laid to die on the pavement. Society at its finest.

I sat there until there was a total absence of human beings as far as my eyes could see. I still like that feeling of quietude and tranquility that only an empty steet can offer me.
If I was finally alone, I could finally walk again. No bumps or turns, no unexpected encounters with familiar faces. Just the way I like my city.
My old and sickness-striken city. My old girl. It's only at these fine hours I could, and still can, feel you as before. A cigarette lights my way down the sidewalk and my smoke mingles with the cool and unpolloted night air.

My God, how can I only feel alive when Death wonders to seek souls for its haven?
And why is everyone but me so hellbent on destroying what we might have left of our humanity? Her humanity.
My Girl, my dark and ill city...

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