Iffy
I see strange figures floating in my head. When they speak to me but I can’t understand them, when they don't, histories unravel themselves within split seconds. Histories, futures, present. With that constantly playing in my head, coupled with the expectations of many pounding on me every second of the day, I realise that 'life' means nothing. The minute I was born I was subjected to a program deem fitting by my parents as well as others. I was trained to follow a specific rule of conduct fondly called etiquette. Mindless rules that almost completely govern how I think.
Everything and everyone seemed like robots in this mindless rat race. It was constricting me in every given way. I hated it. Sometimes going as far as hating myself as if to realise that, yes, i have conformed to being nothing but a shell. My spirit, free will and thought numbed down by the whim of society. The sight of a tear running down my cheek mirrored in my reflection on a glass screen at the coffee shop i sat in jolted my psyche back into the horrid reality that i despised to the core of my soul. I shook my head and sighed. Jose was late.
At the corner of my eye I saw 2 figures rushing their way to a table near me. I closed my eyes shut and tried not to think about time for a while. My table shook slightly and i heard the chair move and creaked as it was sat on. Jose, I thought. What timing.
I opened my eyes and looked forward expecting to see an old friend’s weary face but instead, my hard gaze fell into a pool of dark brown eyes. My hard stare begin to waver and my lips cracked a smile. I looked for that apologetic grin that Jose always had when he knew he was at fault and there it was, to my left. He apologised and introduced me to a close friend of his. Raymond. What a common name to be given to such an uncommon person. I could feel the heat and all i could think of was how good looking this man was. I nodded and said hi. He smiled back the most wonderful smile ever given to me and it gave me butterflies. I felt like i was in high-school. He smiled at me, i thought. This man had actually smiled at me. I stopped myself short as i thought of how, again, this was apart of social conditioning. There was no other way to look at it. For the second time, I was pulled back into my reality as he grabbed my hand and shook it. It lingered in mid hand-shake for a moment or two and reveled in the comfort of each others palms. Curious, i thought. Strong and caring. That was what a simple handshake had told me.
My mind had made up its own. I like this man, it had told me. I had to agree.
Everything and everyone seemed like robots in this mindless rat race. It was constricting me in every given way. I hated it. Sometimes going as far as hating myself as if to realise that, yes, i have conformed to being nothing but a shell. My spirit, free will and thought numbed down by the whim of society. The sight of a tear running down my cheek mirrored in my reflection on a glass screen at the coffee shop i sat in jolted my psyche back into the horrid reality that i despised to the core of my soul. I shook my head and sighed. Jose was late.
At the corner of my eye I saw 2 figures rushing their way to a table near me. I closed my eyes shut and tried not to think about time for a while. My table shook slightly and i heard the chair move and creaked as it was sat on. Jose, I thought. What timing.
I opened my eyes and looked forward expecting to see an old friend’s weary face but instead, my hard gaze fell into a pool of dark brown eyes. My hard stare begin to waver and my lips cracked a smile. I looked for that apologetic grin that Jose always had when he knew he was at fault and there it was, to my left. He apologised and introduced me to a close friend of his. Raymond. What a common name to be given to such an uncommon person. I could feel the heat and all i could think of was how good looking this man was. I nodded and said hi. He smiled back the most wonderful smile ever given to me and it gave me butterflies. I felt like i was in high-school. He smiled at me, i thought. This man had actually smiled at me. I stopped myself short as i thought of how, again, this was apart of social conditioning. There was no other way to look at it. For the second time, I was pulled back into my reality as he grabbed my hand and shook it. It lingered in mid hand-shake for a moment or two and reveled in the comfort of each others palms. Curious, i thought. Strong and caring. That was what a simple handshake had told me.
My mind had made up its own. I like this man, it had told me. I had to agree.
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