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It starts to weigh on you after a while. Maybe you start thinking about giving in and resigning yourself to the new status quo. You can start to feel sorry for yourself, no matter how against your nature it may be or how you despise people who post stupid "FML" status messages on the internet like their lives are all that bad. You wind up holding on to your physical and mental state by a thread. You find yourself needing some semblance of hope, or motivation to keep going after all this time.
And then you see a guy hobbling down the street. A gimp, for the un-pc crowd of which I associate, or a "poor soul" as my mom would immediately refer to them. On your first look your immediate emotional response is something like pitty, although you won't admit it. You watch as a veritable dead-leg is half dragged and half flung in front in order to poorly simulate the walking motion you yourself have no issues performing.
Then I took a second to process what I saw.
It's about 8:30 in the morning.This man is wearing a nice suit. Not gaudy, nor pauperish. It's contemporary, stylish and fits him well.
His shoes aren't dull. They're well maintained.
He's got his laptop/messenger back slung over his shoulder, like me and everyone else.
He's on his way to work. He's not feeling sorry for himself or asking anyone for a hand. He walks funny, he knows it, so he leaves early knowing he needs more time to get to the train.
He's got his headphones on and is listening to whatever music makes him happy.
He lives his life, given the hand he's been dealt.
Despite the professional appearance, the nice clothes and the calm demeanor this guy has his middle finger to the sky telling the universe that it can go fuck itself because it's not going to stop him.
He's gangsta
And he's my hero.
i like this..a lot.
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