Vagabond

I've been fobbed off, and I've been fooled.
I've been robbed and ridiculed.
In day care centers and night school.
Handle me with care

I've never been one to be forced into anything.

Falling asleep on a couch that only someone half my size and double my flexibility can find comfort in, I opened eyes and looked into a dying phone to notice that only a half hour have come to pass. Being removed from my usual methods of diversion, I've soon began to question my necessity on staying in one place and more the majority of that time to my own missing devices until I would return home and lay my weary head. Perhaps it's due to the lack of sleep due to fools who hold irregular hours of slumber for the benifit to avoid sunlight all together. Mayhaps the lack of funds and rush to arrive to campus has left my metabolism dangerously close to annoyance and have removed any patience from my being. Perhaps I simply felt the pull on a rising moon and my vagabond shoes call me to distant roads and my uncanny ability to disappear from those who assume I will always be. What ever excuse I've decided to leave.

I never question why I would want to leave. Ever since I've paid my due in lifetimes, I do not question why I have an urge to do what ever I fancy. I simply go with instinct and see what crosses my path. There have been moments in time where I've denied myself the instinct and have suffered consequences I'd would not go into or desire to explain. I searched my bag the only only permission I would need and pulled enough pocket change to ensure a bottle of tamarindo soda or in this case my passage home. I've traveled my way before in worse conditions in which I would suffer a sprained ankle, food poisoning, a debilitating injury or just the bother of having to depend on myself as I've have so many years ago. This would be no different and would be less of a burden on myself and young lovers.

My paths are always chosen on times of days, who I'm attempting to avoid, and how much of a window I have to make myself scarce. On this day I had the entire day to get home. I've never was one to sit and wait upon what I can get for myself at the moment, even if depending on anyone else would simply be easier to myself. Ducking through buildings and hallways, I've understand the Art of Disappearing which is a combination of not being in plain view and avoiding the sight of those who look for me. If in a daring mood I've often tailed those who search for me close enough to avoid detection or even used devices that made me socially invisible to their need or grasp. Having several stalkers, including an ex wife with more time than decency have taught me that I'm close to immortal if at inches away from the grasp of a reaching hand.

Perhaps a lifetime of being used, abused, tossed aside and sold for scrap that would resemble a Traveling Wilburys song have made me a bit distant and cold yet with a dancer's tease. I've always understood the cruel nature of people regardless if they mean their actions or not. A cut worm does not question the blade that have torn it apart or the meaning of the action, but simply dies. Apologies are for those who seek a quick absolution from guilt and not as a forward for their redemption. If allowed to, the ones closest to you will gut you alive and leave your wounded. Asking if it was on purpose or not is simply for those who wish to survive with some understanding on how a kind world have failed.

I simply refuse to answer the whys in moments like these. They don't ease pain.

Upon feeling asphalt under my feet, I've discovered myself once more. Taking small moments of resolve and silence have always been a form of sanity in moments like these. The warm sun beats down as I lift missing post and return it to the carrier with only a "good day" as a response. A message on a pole advises me that my new friend may have a home after all only to discover that he will not be free of vagabond chains and the missing have been found once more. Small treasures are found within my path and even the smile or two from faces too young to know the weight of the world, yet wise enough to offer sanctuary from it.

My walk is fulfilling, uneventful, and relaxing. Arriving at my destination I look towards my hands and realize that I'm far too short to join in those already in line. I thank the driver for waiting and ask him to make his way forward. Digging within my bag I pull more than needed and minutes later I take part on the express. I will be home in an hour rather than three. Just enough time to enjoy my paper, look outside the window when it offers a sight or two, and enough to wonder how far is Colorado, Ohio, Morocco, or my final escape. My mind drifts to the special places where I seek refuge counting those I've gained over the years and abandoning the ones tainted with time. I added a few to the list and took in the satisfaction that there are places that I did not exist, matter or needed to set actions into motion.

I wonder if this is how those who live feel all the time?

Walking into the sun once more I finally feel the weight on my shoulders. A nap will help with my mood and my need to center myself. My season is done and time is almost up. Why not take a moment to close my eyes and feel nothing. Walking up steps the door open and I see smiles on faces I've missed far too long. They know what I need the most as they let me sit in silence until I announce that I can use a bit of water and sleep. They move heaven and earth aside and I find the setting sun on my chest, a warm body curled at my side, and a hint of a kiss on my brow. It's nice to know that someone understands me without a word.

My mind drifts to nothing. I become the moment and sleep deeply with few voices declaring violence to others if my slumber disturbed. I forget the needs of others and become what I once was and what I will not be soon. A few times I feel my hand land heavy as voices raise themselves slightly and mongrels kicked out to allow me to rest. I am not the enforcer or a Machiavellian tactician, but simply me.

I finally rest and for once I feel that I'm the center of someone's world who want nothing from me but peace.

I will miss these moments but will treasure them when I have to be what others need once more.

I've been uptight and made a mess.
But I'll clean it up myself, I guess.
Oh, the sweet smell of success.
Handle me with care.