Confused-Shoes

The place was swarming with people. People from all walks of life. All opinionated people; most of them didnt give a damn about the world. Some of them gave a damn for the silliest things about the world. In any case, it was sheer exhaustion that has led me to the very heart of that chaos.

I was waiting for her under the old clock. I was so tired I just slumped on the space right underneath that clock, seemingly oblivious to the muddy boots and brand new havs and fake nikes and and janilyns and whatever anyone has to wear on their feet. I suppose I have kind of taken special notice of footwear that time. My head was already kissing the dirty marble. The shoes, naturally, did attract me, as I certainly did attract looks from passersby. I was almost asleep. I didn’t give a damn.

"Get up, shithead." I heard a voice say. I looked up, and there was some god, beckoning me. But I was so tired, I didnt give a damn. Then I cursed myself in my head and I felt sick of myself and I wanted to cry. Suddenly I wanted to cry.

I felt someone kick me in my tummy. It was quite painful. But it only strengthened my resolve to stay that way, fallen, tearful, wasted. I could still hear the sound of a million footsteps. I could not perceive or sense anything else by then.

"You should have died a million years ago. You should have died. But you should not die this way. This is too glorious for you." The voice said, and it was followed by a wild stab at my body. I felt the blade slice me, maybe in two, maybe in a million pieces; my body writhed and my mind felt the horrors of 600 centuries of evil and manipulation and deception and horror and death. In was like I was made to experience the cosmic feeling of eternal damnation. In that instant I was the personification of the ultimate horror of humanity - the sickness unto death.

I remained frozen for some time, tragic, desperate. I knew all the universal juices had flowed out of me. In that numbing pain I felt my soul for the first time - it was me, it existed, apart from me, it was there, it was real, it was undeniable, and it was in pain. My soul did exist and I shuddered at the thought of the pain my soul had felt. My body was used to pain but my sould wasn’t. The existence of my soul, the pain it has felt, made me feel so alive.

It seemed like forever but I was startled when after some time I could hear the sounds of footsteps, building in my ears, in my head, like the swarming of bees, the magical gathering of butterflies, the convocation of flies. Then the sounds of chaos came to me and I felt dead once more. The pain in my soul was gone, or maybe, I just ceased experiencing either my pain or my soul. But I knew I was back, existing in the chaos, present in some place, aware of countless footsteps. Then it became dead silent.

The silence was almost serene. Tranquil. But I did hear the ticking of the clock. Tic, toc, tic, toc, tic, toc, tic…

I opened my eyes and she was smiling at me. I looked up and she offered her hand. I reached for it and I felt like some force had pulled me up from a deep, dark pit. Then I felt sunshine. Warm and tender, it gave me enough strength to force a smile.

I looked at her, and realized that I was still in the same chaotic place, the same place full of people. But I knew I was with her now, she was with me, holding my hand. My heart never felt so happy.

"You’re drooling on your shirt." She said, with a sweet laugh. I laughed too, and I must have looked so clumsy searching my pockets for a handkerchief or tissue. She handed me her white face towel.