I passed all the grand buildings. I admired the facades and marveled. I squished by the rushing crowds during the end of day exodus commute out of the city. Arriving early gave me a chance to walk cross town and expand my nerves but I knew it wouldn’t be a big deal as the company was a large scale operation looking to hire. Usual city suspects were pilfering tourists, and now homeless homies were more abundant.
I stopped by the big button. A guy was grinding weed and rolling up a blunt after a long day of the grind. As I walked the final block to the studio, I crossed the street to avoid a shady junkie rummaging through his bag of crap. That’s when I saw a lady nodding off. I did a double take. It couldn’t have been her. She had shorter hair now — bleach blonde. Same nose, same face. I sized her up and really wondered. It was her legs from when she… when she did the cheer squad. No, this was an older lady. It couldn’t have been her. But she’s older now and is an older lady. It scared me to think it was her. She was in a zombie trance, slumping over zonked out in front of Fire Department 26 on 37th. She’s smart. She would pick a fire station to standby, close by first responders to get immediate help. Was it her?
I did nothing.
I just went to my callback, by now I was cutting it close. I couldn’t focus when I arrived. I couldn’t take my mind off that scourge that took over. A generation swallowed up by these city streets riddled with drugs. Wheelchair bound legless vagrants, deranged men with pants half down, exposing bums standing on corners as crowds deflected their gaze into phones or the ground. Avoid the harsh reality. Avert your eyes. Hide yourself from the ugliness of our humanity. How can you leave fellow man in these conditions?
Am I responsible for this? Am I?
Passed out on stoops. Tucking in for the night on Avenues. I was in for a loop. You ever see a grown man pull his pants down in public to poop? Your own dogs shit, you’d scoop. Shit, I bet this whole bit is like scores of dead army troops. War on drugs was lost. Lodged in the ledger were big government funds paid by human cost. Souls of addicts stolen, and now they are zombie ghosts nodding their heads human bodies as hosts. The living dead. Enough said.
A rat scuttles by as you run to your house trap on a home bound train. Except they have no houses only their bodies to contain their lifetime of pain. The world is insane. Should I still go on to explain? Worse than a rat at any rate. Ain’t western society great? How do we elevate ourselves and not degrade into lesser creatures than rats. Had to think really hard about that? Don’t worry, don’t scurry, damn what’s the hurry? Below the street grates of modern city states are the hell’s gates. Does this underworld make you feel nervous? A rat and it’s brethren at least have a purpose. A baby pushed in a stroller, a pusher that has the drugs that stole her from her mom’s arms. Nothing to see here, don’t be alarmed, keep walking. Except these thoughts are still on my mind stalking: precious lives wasted, scarred, harmed, destroyed, commemorated as visuals in my memories celluloid that’s been degrading. Films fading into obscure art. Fading. Humanity needs a heart. A beat. My feet hitting the dirty city pavement of a cracking concrete. I am not what I am.
Am I truth or deceit?
Salvation from the destruction. A page by page guide with clear instructions. Love starts with this concept. Accept accept acceptance of words. I need more sentimental chords that hit in the heart. I cannot fix this world spiraling out of control, all I can do is get a snapshot on this sad lot. Filled with regret, I cannot forget. A new reality check on this shared delusion. Societal seismic shifts leads to mass confusion. A witness to this moral sickness. Shackles for a free nation. Desensitized of all human sensations. Grim look into unwritten pages of evil’s playbook. A wicked curse is the reverse of all creation. Taking abandoned souls for reappropriation.