Vivo Somnio (vivosomnio) wrote,
Vivo Somnio
vivosomnio

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Perspective....

I was riding the bus. I was sitting in the back of the bus. One of the long, two piece busses. We weren't going anywhere, but the world was passing us by. People darting to and fro, some nonchalantly, some frantically. Fat, thin, short, tall, panicked, apathetic, male, female. I like watching people. When I was in second grade my teacher of the time, Mrs. Smith, expressed concern about me. Her reason was simply something I said. You see, that day an ant farm had been brought into class, and 29 of 30 students were absolutely FASCINATED by this ant farm. I, on the other hand, was in the back reading a book. "Howliday Inn", as a matter of fact. But, I digress. I'm sitting there reading, and she wanders back to me, peering curiously at my being. "Scott...don't you want to look at the ants?" she asks. "No, not really. It's no different than watching people" I say. This made her worry about me. Equating the lives that people live to the lives that ants live upset her. People have a broader emotional spectrum than ants, true. But that's not the point. I have to wonder why somebody gets so upset at being equated to an ant. I've heard it said "the truth hurts".

I envy George Bush Jr. I envy him very much. I think, were I to have the capacity, I would be a much happier person being able to wholeheartedly and completely succumb to believing utter nonsensical bullshit as absolute fact. Were I to hold in complete faith, and ignorance of the truth, certain beliefs I wouldn't be so upset. I wouldn't have to hear shit like "In order to placate the energy crisis we must IMMEDIATELY begin more drilling in Alaska" (not a direct quote, but the spirit of the quote). This is, of course, conveniently ignoring the fact that the raping and pillaging of our natural resources, and the burning of Oil in PARTICULAR is the cause of Global Warming, which in turn is the cause of the Energy Crisis. Wait. I forgot. George Bush only adamantly agreed that the scientific community was right, and there was indeed a global warming issue to be dealt with, until he got elected. After his election he suddenly became mentally superior to those who have studied this phenomenon for years and knew that there was in fact no such thing as global warming. Hmmm. I guess there's only global warming during election? Riiiight. Well, shit. I forgot that I'm not ignorant. How silly of me. Anybody else upset by this whole thing?

Oh, some food for thought on that issue while we're at it.

Anybody else amused by the fact that George Bush Jr. has made all of his millions via Oil companies, and he stands to make millions more with the occurrence of Oil drilling in Alaska? I sure am. Yep. Amused. Hehehe. Hehe. Hehe. He. And then there's the whole abortion thing. Excuse me? Mr. President? Mr. President? Who the fuck gave YOU their right to choose?

I am constantly amazed at the ignorance of our populace.

Divergence is always a good thing, because it broadens. Why would we not diverge? So that we could do the same thing continually for life? I think not. So. Now that I've justified my divergence from the point......BACK TO THE BUS!!!! (And there was much rejoicing)

Sitting across from me, probably 24 years old, was a female. I think she's the kind of female that men would wish for. Or would have wished for. Her skin was a creamy tan. The light brown of a high cream coffee drinkers beverage. The perfect tan, dare I say. Not a tan though, but natural skin tone. No tanning booth could ever perfect the tan of somebodies ears in that way. Her body was not to my liking, though I surmise that most men would describe it as perfect. Perfectly proportioned legs flowed seamlessly up to her hips. Hips that most men probably dream about holding on to while slow dancing. Correct that. Most men would probably dream about doing something else while holding those hips. Most men are just that way. I won't say I'm better. I just have different buttons. She had the kind of stomach that you could lay your head on, and look at the stars for hours. A waist that you could gingerly wrap an arm around and hold onto, and let time flow by like a soft wind, caressing you. (Yes, I am a cuddle whore. Nobody said you had to like it.) Her breasts where a bit large for my taste, but for breasts they were what the media has come to make us believe are perfect. The kind of breasts that scientists would study during efforts to make hover-craft, gravity defying as these breasts where. I probably never would have gone far with her, even would she have wanted to (relationship wise, of course) but I am certain she is a fair approximation of what the majority of men want.

Laying in the seat, with her head resting in this womans lap was the epitome of cuteness. A 6 year old girl, that shared the same skin tone as her mother, and the same nose. As she lay there sleeping she purred softly as her mother stroked her hair. On the face of the child, ringing her small lips, was a little speckling of soft white powder. The sort of powder that comes from a wee little girl munching on those soft white powdered doughnuts. The kind that made me drool to think about them.

The mother sat there, stroking her daughters hair, and smiled. A soft, shy smile. A smile of contentedness. The sort of smile that I wish to wear every day when I hit the 70 year old mark. The kind of smile I wish to wear every day right now.

I sat there, and I watched the interaction for minutes. Maybe fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. I'm really not sure. And then something happened. The woman looked up at me, and it seemed as though she died right in front of me. Her eyes drained, and they seemed hollow, her body haggard. I noticed the condition of her hands for the first time. Worn and wrinkled, seemingly marred by time beyond her years. She looked at me, and I felt very cold. I felt haunted. And she continued to look at me, and then she spoke. A voice very soft, near to a whisper. She told me "I can turn some tricks for you, if the money is right."

No, I'm not kidding.

It was hard not to vomit.

Harder still not to cry.
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