Sunday, July 11, 2010

He looks out from his world. His bulging eyes, his neglected physical appearance, his lack of regard for others. His empty glare. This soul's journey that will not be documented for scrutinizing after the end. His lewd thoughts that come and go that never end. When he walks down the street he sees through you. You will not remember his face. His mother remembered him, until she died. With her all evidence of his existence was gone. His point of view was never acknowledged. The minutia of his personality transparent like a ghost's. In his memories proof that he once walked in and out of your life, that he indeed played a role outside of his imaginations. See the man as a boy among the other children like a ghost. You don't remember him being there.

His understanding of things and his point of view. In his class picture where his face was barely visible his intellect took up the whole room, metaphysically speaking. He knew you better than you thought. He came equipped with a world his own. He knew your strengths and your weaknesses, too. Thank God for the secrecy of his fantasy life.