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wake up man, wake up...
2001-11-06-7:40 a.m.
It was dark, warm, humid and dirty. It was quiet, cold, black and secluded. And he just sat there, staring. Staring and breathing, waiting for something. But nothing was coming, no one was coming where he was, no one had passed by in ages. Right outside the door it all went by, it all went on, it all went down, at the same frenetic pace it always did. People running by like a river, people despairing on their knees, people too far gone to see what was right in front of him. He stood up, and looked out the window, and spent too long thinking about whether or not to go outside. But outside he did go, because he knew he never really had a choice. And as soon as he had half slipped out of the door, before he could close it behind him, the world grabbed him and pulled him along with it, faster than he had remembered, yet not as fast as he could go. His first few steps were stumbles, but they were something. He caught an elbow here, someone tried to trip him there, people tried to grab onto him to hold themselves up. In a few strides though, he had his footing, and he was off. He was running. And he was scared, and he was excited, and he was hopeful, and he was angry. But the world wasn't all dark and quiet and dirty, it was also bright and cool and loud. It was colorful and messy. One amazing thing would streak by, and before he had a chance to look, it was gone. But something just as amazing was on the horizon. Always on the horizon. He left the city behind soon, and was off running through the countryside. There were a few out their with him, although they did not run beside him. And he could see that they were strong runners indeed. They nodded and smiled or waved, and they all continued on their way. None of them knew where they were going, but they knew it was the right way. -- Ronnie
P.S.
God Damn
boxing hurts.
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