Happy Homless Man

So I'm driving to the coffee shop to escape my day at work today, I don't even need anymore caffiene to stir the tense anxiety of angst towards life from another annoying day of work. Here I am, teeth grinding, empty cup of coffee sitting in the cup holder, surrounded by spots from other cups of coffee designed to fuel me through the day. I dont' even know what I'm mad at, just have that heightened sense of my mind rushing through scenario after scenario.... Go Back to work, mind my yells at me, tell them to take this job and shove it up there asses.... Don't go back to work, simutaneously my mind yelling at me.... sell everything and run away from life to be a drunken pirate...not even sure what that part of my mind means, must be losing it a bit.... go back to work....the more rational part of mind, suck it up and work your ass of like you will day in and day out for the rest of your life.

As my mind is doing figure eights through my mind, like an angry high school kid taking his newly purhased bronco across a lawn at one in the morning, I notice a crazy black guy walking down the street. Crazy you ask, why would I presume, well unless he had the newest technology in cell phone hands he was laughing and talking out loud as jolly if telling a funny story to his friend walking next to him...but there was no friend. I tried to avoid a stare so the guilt of that poor unfortunate man wouldn't cause me a second of deep thought on our societies care for the mentally ill.... however instead found myself staring with quite interest.

I wanted to know, WHY WAS HE SO HAPPY. His sunken in checks and dangly arms told me was malnourished, probably had lost the memory of what a good steak dinner tasted like. Hung on his frame like a lampshade was a green stained shirt. His levi pants were almost faded to a white haze. He was alone, probably sleeping somewhere I wouldn't venture to in the middle of the day, with nobody in his life. Yet He was happy.

Yeah, could it be a mind of self madness, a distorted reality fueled by some snapped synapse in his brain, fueled by alcohol or drug. Most likely, yeah. but he was happy.

We all take a lot of pity on people suffering from mental handicaps, autistic, mental retardation, schezophrenia. Many of us see them and feel bad for them. However, a lot of the times they are smiling, laughing and jovial. It seeems to me a lot of handicaps out there seem to be self involved in another world not flawed by outside sources. Since there minds shelter themselves they don't find the problems people with a clear understanding of what's expected in society have.

Some of you reading might be saying....you cold hearted bastard. Some of you might be asking about that madman that is screaming obscenities. I'm not saying I don't feel individuals with mental handicaps have it "easy". I also am not saying all mental handicaps lead to a sense of euphoria. I'm just saying that some don't need sympathy and some do enjoy euphoaria..... and they are some lucky sons of bitches.

Imagine not having a rough day at work, the kind of days where you question what you are doing with your life, staring numbly into that tumbler of whiskey. Imagine not storming out the door after another fight with the person you are supposed to understand and cherish until death, yet instead find yourself wondering how you got yourself in this god forsaken mess with someone you truely never knew. Imagine not getting hot under the collar because you got cut off and that asshole in the audi didn't even glance back as your slammed on your breaks. Imagine not slamming on your keyboards as your computer freezes yet again with another virus, imagine not worrying about the state of the economy, war, famine and disease.

Instead you are just walking down the street, laughing at something we will never understand, nothing to your name and not a care in the world.

Doesn't sound to bad to me.