Friday, 12 April 2013

Becoming Shadows

Rain was pouring down so hard that the street became a muddy reflection of itself. Cars past by, splashing each other with indifference. Street lamps could only illuminate what looked like disaster. The people walking on the sidewalk looked like shadows. Creeping through the drenching water like blobs. Faceless, and without souls.

I stood in front of a shop, smoking a cigarette, trying to keep it dry, I cradled it under my palm between hits. The smoke billowed out of my hand in a cloud that acted like a dream. Slipping through, leaving a memory. Never to be seen again. A meaningless waft over substance.

Covering myself up. My bus was arriving, but in that moment I couldn't stop questioning whether or not I truly had anywhere to go. People stepped on, and off. A commotion of passive traffic. Apathy towards one another. Random frustrations towards a fellow human. Why partake?

One things for sure, if you walk in the rain, without an umbrella, you're going to get wet. It's comforting, as a direct consequence. It's a minor punishment, a slight masochistic understanding of the joys of poor judgement. A cheap rebellion against the world.

Oh yeah? Well I'm going to walk!

So I walked. I took the long way too. I was going to be late. I didn't care. I became one of the shadows, shadows can't tell time. Shadows can't do anything but hide the light. I was hiding the light. I was becoming anything but myself. Which was all I wanted to be.

The urgent need to escape builds up in me like this everyday. The struggle between the conformity of my comforts. While, having the desire to be free. I'm a slave, which makes sense. I have no power. Those without power must be slaves to the powerful. There's no other way to slice that.

My long hair was soaked, and when I slicked it back, it slapped the back of my neck. It was a soft whip; an unexpected surprise, more slight pains. Pain was good. Punishment was good. When I chose them that is. No matter how minor they, remind me that I am, in so many respects; free.

Freedom is more important than comfort.

The more I became a shadow, the more I liked it. There was something here that I didn't have before.

I don't think I was ever seen or heard from again.