Outside the air is clean and cool. My thoughts are accompanied by the hesitant notes played from a trumpet belonging to the little boy next door. When he pauses, so do I. I wonder sometimes if he depends on me as much as I do on him. I doubt if he even knows that I am a nightly witness to his progression as an artist or that he provides me with a constant in my seemingly inconstant world.
As cold as it is, I don't have sense enough to put on socks or shoes. I think I enjoy the feeling of the cold. It cleanses and preserves. The chill gives me a different feeling. It dwells outside of the circle that anxiety, resentment, and fear resides. My body is frigid but my mind is warm and alive.
I initially came outside for a change of scenery. Inside, I find myself angry at things that make no sense and I expect things that cannot be delivered. I resent him for not being like me. He enjoys the idea that everything is simple and logical. I cannot possibly grasp his thought process and he thinks mine is absurd. I feel outside of my life.
All of that is in the background. Right now, I have the cold and the music. A feeling and a sound that I look forward to every night. Loneliness with a soundtrack.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Why would a butterfly dive on a pin?
Today as I sat quietly on the sidewalk with my back pressed firmly against the brick building, I noticed something odd about those who passed by me. None of them even glanced at me. Albeit I wasn't wearing anything particularly flashy and I didn't have an airhorn handy but I was there... sitting and smoking a cigarette.
Typically, when I smoke outside of anywhere I always hear a mixed bag of comments or worse still; a dramatized cough to signify that even fifteen feet away, the smoke from my cigarette has visited a brief glimpse of death upon them by infiltrating their lungs and causing said cough. (I do adore the public) I can take all of the comments but the coughing bit irritates me. I always want to shout, "Hey! You might wanna quit smoking! That's a hell of a cough you got there!" But alas, I don't. I always tell myself that it isn't worth it and that they need something to embody all they see wrong with the world. Why not use the fact that I smoke as a deciding factor in my overall character? Hell, while we're at it let's go ahead and put me in an apron and send me to the kitchen. I'm female too afterall.
I wonder sometimes what it feels like to be that self righteous. If perhaps its a warming sensation that sweeps over your body and blankets you like the feeling you get after you perform an act of charity. Somehow, I doubt it. I imagine its more like a justification for the unbased judgements they more than likely make on a daily basis. I always find myself giggling slightly when I watch them get into a car with a bumper sticker that reads, "Jesus is my co-pilot." If that's so, let him drive.
While I'm on the topic of the sheperd himself, let's consider his actions. Would Jesus have scoffed at me when he saw me smoking a cigarette or ignore me sitting two feet from him as he walked by? I somehow very much doubt it. I think that instead of the WWJD bracelets, it should read "WWJT." What would Jesus think? I find this a very brilliant idea because obviously the other isn't working that well. It could be that they're just all contemplating what Jesus would do to the extent that its causing inaction rather than influencing action. That's why worrying about what he would think could accomplish the same objective, only much quicker. They know what he would think.
Religion aside, I try to not shove people into molds to allow easy dissection. I'm sure I do it and do it frequently but the fact that I know I do should say something... shouldn't it? I'm not tagging all proclaimed Christians as self righteous cattle, mind you, only those who are guilty of forgetting the basic Christian tenants (as I described above). I've known quite a few people who for me embody what my wish is for all people: compassion, understanding, and love. These people signify to me that there is hope. That religion isn't a cloak people wear to shield themselves from the backlash of their actions. That he was indeed, the lamb.
So I sat there, feeling the grooves of the brick against my back. I must have appeared lost or at least lost in thought because an older man walked closer to me and chuckled slightly after hearing another women tell me I shouldn't smoke. I said hello to him and smiled. His brow wrinkled a bit and he leaned down to me and said, "You shouldn't wonder about people too much, most of them don't think often enough to suit me. So I try to remember that because I know what they never bother being curious about, I've lived twice as well as they have," and he patted my shoulder and walked away.
Typically, when I smoke outside of anywhere I always hear a mixed bag of comments or worse still; a dramatized cough to signify that even fifteen feet away, the smoke from my cigarette has visited a brief glimpse of death upon them by infiltrating their lungs and causing said cough. (I do adore the public) I can take all of the comments but the coughing bit irritates me. I always want to shout, "Hey! You might wanna quit smoking! That's a hell of a cough you got there!" But alas, I don't. I always tell myself that it isn't worth it and that they need something to embody all they see wrong with the world. Why not use the fact that I smoke as a deciding factor in my overall character? Hell, while we're at it let's go ahead and put me in an apron and send me to the kitchen. I'm female too afterall.
I wonder sometimes what it feels like to be that self righteous. If perhaps its a warming sensation that sweeps over your body and blankets you like the feeling you get after you perform an act of charity. Somehow, I doubt it. I imagine its more like a justification for the unbased judgements they more than likely make on a daily basis. I always find myself giggling slightly when I watch them get into a car with a bumper sticker that reads, "Jesus is my co-pilot." If that's so, let him drive.
While I'm on the topic of the sheperd himself, let's consider his actions. Would Jesus have scoffed at me when he saw me smoking a cigarette or ignore me sitting two feet from him as he walked by? I somehow very much doubt it. I think that instead of the WWJD bracelets, it should read "WWJT." What would Jesus think? I find this a very brilliant idea because obviously the other isn't working that well. It could be that they're just all contemplating what Jesus would do to the extent that its causing inaction rather than influencing action. That's why worrying about what he would think could accomplish the same objective, only much quicker. They know what he would think.
Religion aside, I try to not shove people into molds to allow easy dissection. I'm sure I do it and do it frequently but the fact that I know I do should say something... shouldn't it? I'm not tagging all proclaimed Christians as self righteous cattle, mind you, only those who are guilty of forgetting the basic Christian tenants (as I described above). I've known quite a few people who for me embody what my wish is for all people: compassion, understanding, and love. These people signify to me that there is hope. That religion isn't a cloak people wear to shield themselves from the backlash of their actions. That he was indeed, the lamb.
So I sat there, feeling the grooves of the brick against my back. I must have appeared lost or at least lost in thought because an older man walked closer to me and chuckled slightly after hearing another women tell me I shouldn't smoke. I said hello to him and smiled. His brow wrinkled a bit and he leaned down to me and said, "You shouldn't wonder about people too much, most of them don't think often enough to suit me. So I try to remember that because I know what they never bother being curious about, I've lived twice as well as they have," and he patted my shoulder and walked away.
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