I want you to meet Sam. God talks to Sam. God tells Sam that he's a nice kid in a bad, bad world, and tries to warn him about things. Last week, God told Sam that the government was putting chemicals in his toothpaste, so now he has to brush his teeth with baking soda. Sam tells me that he's just glad he doesn't have to use hand soap.
How's that for looking on the bright side?
Sometimes, God gets excited and screams at Sam, when Sam is in real danger. For example, Sam has to ride his bike to the drug store, to get the meds he can sometimes afford. Now, God knows that the street is very dangerous, and hollers at Sam, so that Sam will be careful. So when you see an eighteen year old sitting on the curb, clutching his bicycle to his chest and crying, that's Sam. Sam knows God loves him, and is only trying to protect him, but if only he wouldn't yell...
And this is Desiree, or at least that's what she calls herself. Desiree is a "working girl" (read: prostitute), with a very specialized clientele. The men (strangely enough, never women) who come to see her have 3 things in common. They are religious, they are at least somewhat in positions of authority, and they feel that they've been bad and need to be punished. They're right, of course.
Desiree loves her job, despite the fact that she's a lesbian. She loves her job because she has a very low opinion of most men, and what she does to these men only confirms her belief. I asked her why she hates men, and she responded "because I've never met one."
To the best of her recollection, she's never had what most people call "sex" with a client. She is, she says, paid to abuse people who abuse people...And that's not really a bad gig, when you think about it. She is a woman who has found her place in life, and she is content. How many people can say that?
The last person we're going to meet today is Julia. Julia is the mother of three teenagers, one of which is pregnant, one of which is in jail, and the youngest of which has Down's Syndrome. Her husband ran off two days after the Down's boy was born. Julia works three jobs to keep a roof over their heads, and is drastically underpaid for the bone-crushing work she does. She and her family live in a roach-infested apartment on the far South end, and she cleans offices here, when she's not scrubbing dishes or working on yards. She's Thirty-Eight, and looks like she's Sixty.
But you know what?
Julia takes time out to pray to her God every morning and night to thank Him for what she has. She bears the crushing load that rests on her shoulders because, in her world, that's just how it is. She thanks her God that her son is only in jail and not dead, that her youngest has enough awareness to smile at her, and that her Grandchild-to-be seems to be progressing normally. She is a woman cast from iron, and she makes me ashamed that I sometimes complain about things that she would view as the best day she's ever had. Hell, I know of Marines that would bow before her superior strength and intestinal fortitude. If it were not for people like her, this sorry society we have would have collapsed decades ago.
These are the people in your neighborhood. This ain't Sesame Street.
Now, fuck off. All of you.
Or kill me.
...
man, i really don't know jack shit.
Jesus christ man, you are back with a vengence! :mittens:
This one is superior. Really.
I feel pleasantly slain.
Terrible. In a good way.
Roger, I think you are going to have a lot of fun back in The City.
An urban Rain God.
Please keep up the awesomeness. :mittens:
Quote from: Payne on March 28, 2008, 11:56:50 PM
Roger, I think you are going to have a lot of fun back in The City.
An urban Rain God.
It occurs to me that there are many tall buildings in the business district. :lulz:
Quote from: SillyCybin on March 28, 2008, 08:26:26 AM
Jesus christ man, you are back with a vengence! :mittens:
Thanks. What can I say? I'm home.
I especially liked this one, out of the rest, for some reason...
There is no Sesame street anywhere.
At least, that I've ever been.
F-ing prostitutes. Always calling themselves by my name.
Damn that was good.
Usually when I read your rants, they just get me going, firin up my internal hate engines.
This one does that, of course, but more importantly, it just speaks honestly. Good literature.