The Many Faces of Man

         "Good morning love", what an euphemistic morning greeting, it used to mean something, but now resides on the tip of my toungue almost as a sneeze or a cough.. regardless of the specification, it is a good morning. My mysterious slumber brought the impending impression of instability... running down a hall way, with flashes of bright green light, then red, then back to pitch black... my steps hit harder every few steps, i can actually feel them sink beneath the solid floor as i perceive to be cement or an equally dense material, the cracks sprint to the next estimated step, breaking in even before my step reaches it.. my lungs are starting to burn.. but my heart none the less continues to churn, do not fear anything i quickly learn.. a lesson in self-respect, confidence, and concern... for a simple glance back in the direction of my fear made everything bright again... the hall walls burst outward into a setting of a vast ocean, I'm walking on water, feeling the currents swirl with an apparent pattern under my feet, i see my family here, all going in one direction, towards the large ice shelf at the edge of the image, while my friends drift towards an island of perfection...I walk now in the direction of my fear, with my hearts beat contending the most powerful meteor/ earth collisions.. My mind has ended its race, nothing is moving, time is at a standstill. The object in front of me is as horrid and frightening as ever.. I can understand why i was running with so much inspiration.. for lying on the ice was my bloody and battered body, wearing tattered clothes and aged to an almost lifeless state. The water I'm standing on breaks its uncharecteristic water tension, and i fall through to my love in my sight, and the nine o'clock news on the television discussing rape, murder, war, all of hate..
         
         I take up where I do every morning, in a cycle that has always stayed on its circular path.. A cup of coffee, some form of nutrition, and a new insane disaster for discussion.. The perfect two thousand calorie meal, the perfect taste, this is going to be a good day. I count the dollars in my faded pleather wallet, and am satisfied with what i find; just enough for gas to get to work and back, with a little snack in between.. All my life amounts to being satisfied with nothing in hand.. The drive was as perfect as the breakfast meal, the mileage of my Japanese made car reads one hundred thousand, last oil change at ninety, but it still runs whats the point of going out of my way to make it smooth? Life was following the same beat as me, the children with dirt on their faces playing baseball on the dead streets, the little old lady recapping her history just as Forrest but her crowd was herself and there is no redeeming what she has done.. she waits helplessly for the senior citizens bus to arrive and assist her to her seat.. i get to work, feeling different somehow.. I seem to be mixing dream with reality, by effortlessly walking through the front door on water..
         
         Today I'm Jesus.. as with everyone else here.. yet work just began, seven hours left. I stand there crafting amazing things in my mind; mindless work is always the best. I start with a problem, think of how i can make it worse since this is usually the case i have to prepare for it, then i do a series of mathematical equations to help smooth out the edges to make it less painful when swallowing.. hate plus hate equals family it equals a regular day.. its about here when reality burns back, literally. I'm breaking out in sweat, and my superviser is screaming at me to work harder, and i do. I break my back, day after day, to gain money, to buy food, to feed me, to get energy, to work.. irony? maybe a bit, but i do accomplish alot when i look to the sun every once and a while and question my work ethic.. though the response isn't as blunt as id like, i understand it.. the more you look the more damage is done.. permanence  fades in body but in mind is won.. i lust for fun, but games to me at this age are daily experiences.. maybe that explains my fear of the next day.. she could leave... or worse he could come.. my family may dissolve into the status quo of the modern day, my dear heart could stop from some disease.. this is the reason why i began this discussion, yesterday i was Jesus.. i studied the works, and really thought i could change the world, i really thought caring too much was a good thing.. i really thought love was true, and words were always honest, i really thought that trust was common, but I'm here at work.. breaking my back to make ends meet..
         
         The drive home was just as exciting as the drive here just with a little twist. It's now night, the little old lady has transformed into a rugged looking man holding a paper bag, nodding his head to his intense argument with himself.. the dead streets are now alive, yet the kids playing ball or now inside.. replaced by older looking kids, with red glows every once in a while around their mouths, each one playing Russian roulette with their many choices of death, it could come at an time, be it the disease inside, or the materials outside.. I try not to think to much about that, as i succeeded that stage of life already with only a few scars.. my eyelids begin to close as i pinch my face to stay awake, and alert of the red 79' mustang, entering my lane.. I smash the horn with my fist in anger to let him know I'm there. He has to be aware of it, he has to. He sways back to his lane, i feel safe home is a couple blocks over. Then i realize he's coming back, and i slam on the horn again, he sways back ignores the stop sign and forces his way through the body of a few young teens going to their study group...
         
         Upon my arrival, i realize that dinner tonight is my responsibility, but i couldn't afford anything much.. i gather whatever i could find, lying to my love about me eating at work, she deserves the world, but as of now i could only give her mine, which is a can of peas, a can of corn, and a chicken breast i stole from work.. With my talent i make it look professional, and serve her what she perceives to be gold on a dish..its really just enough to get her by tonight.. After dinner i take a shower and draw a peace sign on the steamed mirror over the image of my face.. then i lay in bed kiss my love goodnight.. tie my shoes tight, then open the door to the hallway, and begin the sprint once again...
         
         I'm a young soul trying to make my own.. but it does not come easy, i would never ask for it to be, today I'm not Jesus, im Sisyphus mixed with Churchill and Hitler, the struggle, the brilliance, the hate, its what makes life worth while . I still care too much and think love is true, i would change the world if i had the chance to.. will this happen, will i ever know?... who am i?... what am i supposed to be doing, where is the script to my life, i may have just forgotten a few lines..whatever the case, this is not what I'm destined to be, tomorrow ill break through the water bring my family up with me, dress my ragged body, bring us all to the island... follow the success to reality, catch the ball and throw it back to the children, help the old lady on the bus telling her life was more than good enough.. commit to rescuing the youth on the street, steal the keys from the driver before he even has a chance steal.. then ill come home, kiss my wife goodnight..and relax in the oceans current satisfied with life...