Monday, January 12, 2015

Sometimes a human is reduced to black smoke.

I saw John today. He didn't see me though, nor did we talk. Damned shame...I like John. Remember John?
http://eastvanspoke.blogspot.ca/2014/11/fractured-mirrors-john.html
I recognised his wool toque and dilapidated 2-wheeled cage grocery cart as he ran across the busy street not unlike a Sasquatch to grab the oncoming Burnaby bus. I was sure that the black plastic bag in his cart was the same one I saw him with 9 months ago...reuse!
He somehow had time to fluidly check the trash can before the bus arrive. He's a man on a mission to be sure. I watched the bus pass him by. His head dropped down.
That's a professional driver with Translink who's making $30 an hour with benefits fit for a King's Queen. His union must be proud!
What a pitiful human! I NEVER passed up people when I drove bus for 11 months in Vancouver.
Water under the bridge.
Today was a down day for me. It was as if I was asleep while driving you know? That bloody video playing over and over with my voice giving commentary. All the lies were believable today. Nothing good. Lots of it true.
Live and learn they say.
The reason I mention John is because he has mental health issues and that bus should have stopped. He's a threat to no one. He talks quite a bit, but it's never as annoying as some tit on his phone talking about his week end escapades ( read...lies) or the dizzy Mall Dolly talking about MAC make-overs.
To each his own I fear.
A guy tried to sell me some Versace perfume the other day. I didn't tell you about that. He wanted $10 for it. It looked legit but what do I know from Versace? I had some money in my pocket, I should have parted with it and let him keep his toilet water. I'll see him again.
He lives in his van. I give him food often.
I drive along a section of Burrard St. every day. Tiffany and Co is one store there, the others are like it. Coach etc. I fear I couldn't afford to use their toilets. (I should ask. Take a memo)
Anyway, although ignorant, I'm certain the prices for the trinkets within are astonishing! I guess the trinkets are too should you go in for that stuff.
Today, I saw a group of young Asian women with name brand bags over their arms. Guess what? They didn't look happy at all. Each one of them looked bored to tears like they were dumped there to shop while their partners went off golfing or to a meeting or something.
I tell you. My daily contrast is mind numbing.
The reason I mention John, Clayton (in the van) and the bored Asian women is to try and draw some meaning out of humans that will probably never meet.
The reason I mention them at all?
I came home tonight. We live near a large graveyard that offers burial and cremation.
As I rode up the street on my motorbike, I noticed a plume of black smoke. At first I thought it must be a car or garage on fire.
Nope. Someone chose cremation.
You see...if we take away all the shiny trinkets form one of Vancouver's most expensive stores, if we peel off a dirty wool toque, if we remove a man from his van...at the end of their days, all they are at best is ashes and memories.
All WE are is ashes and memories.
Don't hoard stuff. Instead, make people smile and feel special. I'll wager people will have fond memories of you.
Sleep well. Don't forget to push the OFF button on the video.
Peace








4 comments:

  1. You really are a blessed guy, brother Spoke. Many would frustrate with what you do. Helping the least of our brothers and sisters is a hard call to answer. Just gotta look at Jesus in every face.

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