i guess pen & paper, a dim red light & solitude, a half-eaten pizza & no drink were all i needed to be happy. i guess i now can hear & feel my own heartbeat & breathing like no one else has heard & felt before. i guess i feel comfortable enough to remind myself of the ALIVE people i’ve bumped into lately–& it seems to me those beautiful eyes are after me for some reason i can’t explain. first was the guy, sun himself maybe, because looking at him smiling was like staring at the happiest kid on earth. his was an actual smile, a smile that saddened me because i couldn’t respond to his empathy at all. yet his entire being was encouraging. Mr Perfect Smile was he. Mr Happy shook hands with me. he and his friend were strangers in deadland, and i was their guide. a couple of times we met, & that was enough. enough to wonder about my own life, & about how pointless it is for a guy to find sunshine in another guy, worse if Mr Sunshine is a man of God. God!, how could i possibly compete with God! I’d be the eternal loser… I should accept the women He sends me, shouldn’t i?              Shouldn’t i?! i’m so tired of staring at stars and not getting lit. then was the kid. i was sitting on the edge of some pool, & there came a kid swimming. & it’s not like he was doing it on purpose–he was about to sink, actually. i gave him a hand. “GRACIAS,” said he, and looked at me with the most beautiful eyes i’ve ever seen in a kid. even though his was a “cute” boy’s face, i could notice his strength. this kid was really something. i’d even assure he was stronger than me. “¿Va a pasar?,” i finally replied, but he just kept there, looking at me. it was the perfect painting Da Vinci would’ve immortalized! this kid was crazy pure, & crazy wild too. lucky kid, always keep your strength, don’t ever let shit eat you up, conquer the world if you please, play with your toys till you’re 80! the kid within me would’ve been honored to play with you! 🙂 Finally, there was the last one, another kid. this one resembled the previous one in childish beauty, yet not in emotional disposition. his was a crying calling out every cell in my body. such a noisy place, a sordid busy street, couldn’t hid that vision. he was talking to me, I swear, he dammit was! he followed, followed my eyes with his as he turned his sick body towards me. & me, like a dick, staring at others to find out if they gave a shit,,,                  I got on the bus.                           Shame on you, SHAME ON YOU! i did feel the impulse to hug that kid so bad, but it’s just that i thought that’d be so weirdly perceived by passers-by that i just hold back, HONEST! i would’ve PLAYED with him whatever game he wanted. it’s just…                  they’re in my head…… their sick voices torment my thoughts all the time…… sorry kid, SORRY KID, i know what it feels like, i myself have been weeping for so long too…….. it’s awful when you don’t get heard. next time, i’ll hug you, i promise.



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