“The day I was born I was born free and that is my Privilege.”


Mi Ideal
November 30, 2007, 9:36 am
Filed under: Licorice | Tags: , , ,

His mind captivates me that I devour his words. There is he with his bandmates, through their Music, fearlessly describing the world we live in with all the human flaws and encouraging everyone to think differently, that is, if you want change.

I share his idea of multiple or varied interpretation. Maybe that’s the primary reason why I like him, second is his naked torso (just kidding).

I thought of having a man akin to him, especially the one with his level of thinking, but I realized with this standard, it will take me eons to meet such a man.

And now, let his words be known.

If sidewalks could talk, what would they say? If they had eyes, what would they see? If we had the knowledge that they had consciousness, would we walk upon them the same? If I were a sidewalk, I would ask that those who tread on me tread with light feet. I would encourage those upright to walk further, and introduce themselves to my less trod upon siblings on the back streets and alleyways; you’ll always find more interesting stories there. Sidewalks are privy to wanderers, waders, street performers, homeless hopefuls and lovers, young and old. They are far more traveled and wise than walls.If sidewalks could talk, what would they say? If they had eyes, what would they see? If we had the knowledge that they had consciousness, would we walk upon them the same? If I were a sidewalk, I would ask that those who tread on me tread with light feet. I would encourage those upright to walk further, and introduce themselves to my less trod upon siblings on the back streets and alleyways; you’ll always find more interesting stories there. Sidewalks are privy to wanderers, waders, street performers, homeless hopefuls and lovers, young and old. They are far more traveled and wise than walls. Walls wait, observe, tower and block. Sidewalks lead the curious and the informed towards their destinations. Like a dog blissfully leading a blind man. There’s nothing more honorable than that.

If I were a sidewalk, I would know people. You can tell so much about a person by how they carry themselves, and even more based on the types of shoes they wear. In all honesty, I would indeed find myself lucky to be staring directly up summer’s roamer skirts. You can tell a bit about a person that way too.

Sidewalks are the wise, old men of public transport. They hear stories, witness midnight brawls, drug transactions, proposals and breakups. They consume the chewed gum of the cities, are bathed in the runoff of car washes and spilled coffees, and happily eat the spit of the tactless.

They do all of this willfully, helplessly and continually. Sidewalks support the feet and the wheels of urban existence. And they will do so even after the cities retreat and are no longer capable of supporting humanity. After which they will remain; cracked and blessed. Blessed with the embedded history of what once was. Only making way for the life slowly creeping out of it’s holes. The grass, the trees, and the organisms that I call inevitability. One day, sidewalks will be archeology. Sidewalks will be souvenirs.”

And there he is.

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