The Day

Making my rounds in the wilderness and I caught a glimpse of humanity in the heart of the jungle. I often wonder why people do the things they do often to no avail; but on this mundane day it was made clear.  A day is a series of consecutive hours that give order in this man made construct called time. Without it there would be no use for calendars. Long gone are the day where survival depended on knowing when the rainy seasons were and when to harvest the crops. As a result of the progress of humanity over time, the division of labor was birthed. When labor was splintered every which way inevitable mind numbing boredom began to take root.

In the constant quest for giving life purpose people began doing things to bring excitement to their lives and to break the monotony of being in prison without bars. This plane of existence is a prison in which your soul is trapped until it is freed at death. Some people find away to become warden while others are just happy being inmates. In all walks of life people do something that helps them cope with the reality they know. Some people use drugs, some people use people and some people well, they just consume oxygen. Through it all everybody has some activity that helps them get through the day. The brother in the picture feeds the seagulls and pigeons every single day.

Every time I go to that shopping center he always out there with a loaf of bread and a flock of birds around him. I use to laugh at him and think he was weird but then I realized that is how he gets through his day. Who am I to judge him? I don’t know him; who knows he may have wanted to be a veterinarian but he didn’t have the resources to. Life could have thrown him a couple curve balls to keep him off track and distracted by his environment. That is what brings him serenity and gives him light. You never know what the next person is dealing with by looking at them.

I merely observed another person’s moment of tranquility and found an answer to a question that had been eluding me for years. People do the things they do to help them get through the day. People talk and gossip about others to help them get through the day, elderly women sew quilts and play bingo to make the time pass. People play politics in the workplace while in the jungle brothers shoot dice and talk sports. We are all merely passing the time in one way or another until we get paroled from this hellish existence. Death will always be freedom in this world and in  the next. The day you realize that you are dead already is the day you will truly begin to live. Stay Regal.

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