Meditation IV

Neil the well dressed man was sitting on the bus one day when he didn't realize he was taking up two seats. There was a man whose tie wasn't quite done up right, and whose jacket was covered in cat fur standing in front of him, and so Neil lifted his bag onto his lap, and the man sat beside him. A puff of cat hair came up, and Neil wiped it off his bag. He then pulled out his phone, and began to shop for more fashionable clothes.

The man leaned over and looked at Neil's phone, who in turn looked back at him.

“Does that have a voice recorder,” asked the man “If it does, can you show me?”

“I think so.” said Neil. He didn't have time to record his voice, there was too much new music out there for him to hear. He took his headphones out and turned on the voice recorder. The man then grabbed Neil's phone, holding it in front of him while, with the other hand, he pulled Neil's collar towards him.

“Do you know, what's like? To think, have, feel know, at that one moment? Where all you need is a second? Well I do. But I didn't have that time, and instead of finishing my note or telling someone around me, my beard became itchy, and since that day the scratch scratch of my chin has always irritated me. But let me tell you, after that moment I hated my body, and did all I could so it would leave me alone. I shaved and worked out, ate right and dressed proper, cut my hair twice a month, but only to find out it didn't help. Not at all. Instead, I only found myself getting farther and farther away from that moment, and so I couldn't help myself but keep trying to suppressed my body. But finally when I thought the moment had come, again I was thinking, feeling, being, I was only an empty shell. And what I did realize wasn't anything but what I had before, before I had lost my focus and put more attention on weights than pens, apples than instruments, shirts than brushes. And I did the opposite. I gave my body all it wanted, refused to move unless I had to, sitting around piles of discarded food and allowing my skin to become oily, my hair to lay down by its own accord. So how did it end? Am I any closer? Do I look like I know something you don't? But really, I do, because I wasted two life-times, one in perfect shape and the other without it. And now as an old man I don't have a faintest idea what I was trying to accomplish. So what does it mean for me? Or for you, in that matter? Was there another avenue for me? Maybe if only, in that time, I had something like this, record what I don't need. But probably, I'd find myself in the spot I was in before. Not having anything more, or less. Just finding the same old thing, in a different packet.

With this, the old, bearded man rose to his feet, and threw the phone against the side of the bus. Of course, Neil the well dressed man was too scared to do anything. Besides, he could always get another phone. The man then called for the driver to stop, and climbed off.