Outside.
- Mar 13
- 2 min read
I look at the ground beneath my feet as I walk, knowing how old each single step I take is and how long the earth has known my footfall. I look up and gaze upon all the people I see near and far and realize that if everyone whose life at that moment was shorter than mine vanished, there would most likely not be a soul left to see.
The world is a pleasant playground and kindness is at the heart of my life. I have a smile for everyone, kindness for everyone, time, for everyone, and I wander, timelessly, content and happy. I gift money to the homeless, converse with those who engage, and the pleasure of seeing a woman's instant attraction upon asking an innocent question never tires. The flush of her skin, the sheen on her face, the deep, faraway somehow sleepy look. The smile. I smell her, sense her, know her, and sometimes, with scant words exchanged, love her. There is no horse & cart jarring her to the bone over a rock-encrusted ride back to my barn to fuck her in the hey loft in this day and age. These days I drive that SUV and live in that mansion. I wear the brand, I buy the cologne, I do everything I can to add to my already irresistible aura, and it works, it all fits together so nicely, it's so nice, I'd fuck myself if I could.
And when I meet the world, sometimes, I just want to fuck. Forget the blood, forget the mysticism. Sometimes I just want to fuck, fuck all night, keep the curtains closed and fuck all day, and when I've had enough, I fuck some more. It helps with the pain of knowing every person I see and all the things they ever were and will be, are already ghosts lost to time and to me. I mourn for a world yet to die and the people within it.
I walk alone.
I walk in a city full of people yet I'm free from all of them.
I have beloved places of refuge.
I sit and drink coffee while looking so far into the sky, heaven itself appears, knowing full well hell itself sits beneath me.
Despite everything bad and broken in this world, most of the tears that fall from my eyes are of joy, and not pain.