Pens make people think

Justin Rands

Morning has barely broken and my steps are loud on the gray pavement in front of me as I progress towards my destination. The status of the world is at a constant yellow. Be careful. Not red. Not green. We can't stop, but we can't go forward. But we can be cautious. All of us holding hands together, holding our breaths. I look to my left and I look to my right. I see a reflection of my face in the people all around me. Sinking eyes with white pupils. Mouths open but no sound. The black hole in front of us is as apparent as our fate but we look upward and onwards. If we stay numb we are safe.

I am walking towards a place. This place pays me money to do things. I am as a robot. Fingers moving. Constantly moving. Mind numb, filled with dreams, shit on. Bright lights glare onto my white skin. Moans are heard from all around. Others like me. Others. Always others. Can't escape them. Dead cliches. Dead minds. Neurotic nothings.

I pass a man. I pass a woman. A woman with a child. A man in a suit, hat. Dressed up, dressed down. Stuck. Free. Ranting. Have to get to the money. The money allows me to do something. Drown myself. Numbing sensations and bright colors. Pain and pleasure. All in one. I salivate then dry my spit with my hand. I tell my hand to move to my mouth. Good, still sharp. Ok. I still am fucked, but it's ok. The sun is rising, and the sky is a bright pink. The clouds from the bay blow from the water and stay low. Low enough for me to touch. Cold. A car passes, honks. At who? Beautiful. Can only see the sky between the looming buildings all around me. Building built by man. For man, for woman. For worker. For capitalism! Hungry busy workers need somewhere to go. I must pollinate.

So many advertisements. People. Telling me what to buy. Eat. Drink. Think. Do. What do I do? Shout! No, too loud. People will be suspicious. Tell someone. Can't do that. Then what? Run from the ads. The large woman telling me to buy nicer clothes. The large man embracing another man looks at me closely. What is he looking at. He looks like he knows something. I don't know. I don't want to know. Let it be.

Clop clop clop. My steps echo behind me, in front of me. The white cords to my ears blare a song I like. A somber song. A song for the times. Apathy! Everywhere. God dammit. I'm not even to work yet. Is this it?

Remembering my youth. Future uncertain. How to act? Things had to change. Things must! Things never did and no one has. Same tendencies. Give me comfort. God dammit, give it to me. You have enough. I just want a little. I am sucking from the teet of America. Home of the free and home of the fucked. I must feed occasionally or I will die. The milk is so sweet too. Who can deny that? A fool. And that is not me. I am on my way I tell you. On my way. Yes sir. Bright lights. Fame. Fortune. Absolutely nothing. Something to make me feel worth a shit. Maybe two shits.

I walk through the huge glass doors of my building. 7th and townsend. A large brick building with many windows near a freeway with many cars. Zooming here, zooming there, zooming. People in the cars rushing. Frantic. Talk radio. What's the news? Death, terror, fame, embarrassment. Others listen to their thoughts. Others, calm music. Loud music. Get ya going. Get where you need to go, do what you need to do, then go do what you want to do. I give a salute to those race drivers and head inside. Nodding to the security guard. He's nodding off. Poor bastard. Whole world thrown off course. For what. He can't even get it up for his wife he's been up so long. Once a week isn't enough my friend. Get another job.

I keep my music on as long as possible. I have to. Only let go for the last second. The wind of the door hitting my face and the brighter lights and voices overtaking my body. Numbing it like a drug. I take the IV and force it into my veins. Ah, and coffee? Yes. 2 sugars please. 2 sugars and a chair.


© Justin Rands 2007

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Justin Rands writes sometimes. It flows out of him after he soaks up daily events. If you want to read more comment and go here.