Being human is an easy life. I am constantly in the act of waiting. And in this act of waiting, we meet several people (“red and yellow, black and white…all are precious in his sight. Some will pass by, some will seat down with you, chat a bit and hopefully someone will wait with you. Do we have any control as to who passes by or who waits with us I think not. But certainly we have the pleasure of meeting each one of them. We exchange stories: good, bad, tragic, comic, a combination of sorts which brings forth an araby. Times passes soon. No one leaves. The wait continues.
Some stay still, others looking at others. The ones who stay still, evolves into some catatonic pillar while the rest marvels their transformation. They become massive, stern looking forward creatures, dressed in all powdered white which resembles light. To them, it is an absolute nirvana, or perhaps an epitome of a spiritual enlightenment. I fear at those sights. I resist the idea of being elevated into another form. I was created into His own image. I want to feel pain (like He did), I want laughter (like He did), I want to endure the challenge the day has brought about (like He did), I intend to focus myself towards what is currently at my platter (like He did). Wait till it’s my turn to cross. Wait good, and wait well. Yes, like He did!
Eyes open.
Pitch black. My left arm reaches and yearns for some warmth. The cold envelopes my palm as it retracts, slowly closing. I look up and asks my alarm when. Clearly it flashes me numbers which continues, I don’t even have a number.
When
Want to chat
I am waiting.
Eyes still open
Location: Chicago Area
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