‘Show me a sane man and I will cure him for you.’- Carl Gustav Jung
At around 6:45 this morning, a presence in my apartment awakened me like a light tap on the shoulder. The sound of footprints made me instantly open my eyes. I felt calm and well rested for once. I knew that had to be the presence of God. ‘Thank you Jesus’ was all I could say as I blinked my eyes and yawned. This was one of those ‘feel good’ mornings. While still lying down, I was vividly recollecting last night’s dreams. On the rare occasions when I do actually remember my dreams, I’ll forget all of the details. But this morning was different. Maybe those almonds I’ve been eating were finally starting to kick in and trigger some of those memory cells that I don’t use. I don’t know what it was.
Springing out of bed, I made my way to my Mac and started jotting down everything about my dream before amnesia took over. The extra 20-minutes from my early awakening, were being put to great use (Lord knows that I am the Queen procrastinator). I was even left with some time to do some crunches! Hurray! This was turning out to be an awesome morning.
Aboard the train on my way to work, I realized it was one-year-later. One year ago, I started my job. I reflected on my first day of work and compared it to the insanely busy days I’ve been having, this year. Funny enough, I looked down at my sweater-a burnt orange colored v-neck knit-and realized: I even had on the SAME SHIRT that I wore on my first day of work! What a coinky dink.
There was a crazy man that I took note of while waiting on the platform. On the train, he stood to my left and I kept him in my peripherals. We made eye-contact and I put on my ‘don’t fuck with me’ face. That always works. I think I’ve been blessed with a certain power- it’s weird because people actually take heed to it. He was muttering profanities under his breath which was the first indication of ‘crazy.’ Naturally, these are the ‘types’ you have to watch…
While reading some research material I’d printed, some man who looked like Borat was trying to get by and damn near knocked me over. Cumbersomely regaining my bearings, I looked at him like he was out of his mind. Can’t people at least say excuse me? I just rolled my eyes and went back to my notes. Shortly after being thrown-off balance, the bonafide ‘crazy’ from the platform started showing out. There was a red-head Irish looking man who was standing in front of him, facing me. The 'crazy' told him to move to another spot (although the white-dude was not in his way). Of course, Mr. White-man actually responded-I just shook my head, watching the disaster unfold. He should have never even entertained that fool’s comment.
Then all I heard was ‘This Caucasian muh-fucka…fuck this..fuck dat..’ ‘Oh yea, he is all jacked up’ was all I thought. Just down right ignorant. Of course, it was a Black dude-pulling the most racist and ignorant shit to say out of his back pocket. ‘I asked you to move ova dat way..’ the 'crazy' said. ‘Well, you didn’t ask very nicely,’ Mr. White-man said in a surprisingly stern voice. I was happy he stood his ground. Now all he needed was the ‘don’t fuck with me’ stare, and he would be good. The ‘crazy’ started to get loud and started causing a scene. The two exchanged words and finally a white-woman who was standing near the white-guy volunteered to change places with him since the ‘crazy’ had a problem with the white guy standing there. That solved the problem-but it didn’t stop the ‘crazy’ from talking reckless.
‘For all ya’ll that didn’t ova-stand what I just did, FUCK YA’LL muh-fuckas!’ He muttered while coming near me. What the hell does 'ova-stand' mean anyways? I just hoped this fool didn’t have a gun. I thought about ways to attack him in case he tried to get at me. I would definitely be kicking him in the balls if he tried me. I was not scared either.
But again, thank you Jesus. He took his crazy-ass to the middle of the train and finally shut-the- hell up. I just looked at him and went back to reading my notes. I think we all have a little crazy in us-but that dude just wasn’t right. Some people have nothing better to do than disturb peaceful commuters.
History does repeat itself. The same way I wore my same sweater, on the same day one year later, I'm sure that same 'crazy' will go onto the next train and terrorize more innocent Irish-men.
OK, so technically my sweater has nothing to do with my train experience. But, you know what I’m saying.
Springing out of bed, I made my way to my Mac and started jotting down everything about my dream before amnesia took over. The extra 20-minutes from my early awakening, were being put to great use (Lord knows that I am the Queen procrastinator). I was even left with some time to do some crunches! Hurray! This was turning out to be an awesome morning.
Aboard the train on my way to work, I realized it was one-year-later. One year ago, I started my job. I reflected on my first day of work and compared it to the insanely busy days I’ve been having, this year. Funny enough, I looked down at my sweater-a burnt orange colored v-neck knit-and realized: I even had on the SAME SHIRT that I wore on my first day of work! What a coinky dink.
There was a crazy man that I took note of while waiting on the platform. On the train, he stood to my left and I kept him in my peripherals. We made eye-contact and I put on my ‘don’t fuck with me’ face. That always works. I think I’ve been blessed with a certain power- it’s weird because people actually take heed to it. He was muttering profanities under his breath which was the first indication of ‘crazy.’ Naturally, these are the ‘types’ you have to watch…
While reading some research material I’d printed, some man who looked like Borat was trying to get by and damn near knocked me over. Cumbersomely regaining my bearings, I looked at him like he was out of his mind. Can’t people at least say excuse me? I just rolled my eyes and went back to my notes. Shortly after being thrown-off balance, the bonafide ‘crazy’ from the platform started showing out. There was a red-head Irish looking man who was standing in front of him, facing me. The 'crazy' told him to move to another spot (although the white-dude was not in his way). Of course, Mr. White-man actually responded-I just shook my head, watching the disaster unfold. He should have never even entertained that fool’s comment.
Then all I heard was ‘This Caucasian muh-fucka…fuck this..fuck dat..’ ‘Oh yea, he is all jacked up’ was all I thought. Just down right ignorant. Of course, it was a Black dude-pulling the most racist and ignorant shit to say out of his back pocket. ‘I asked you to move ova dat way..’ the 'crazy' said. ‘Well, you didn’t ask very nicely,’ Mr. White-man said in a surprisingly stern voice. I was happy he stood his ground. Now all he needed was the ‘don’t fuck with me’ stare, and he would be good. The ‘crazy’ started to get loud and started causing a scene. The two exchanged words and finally a white-woman who was standing near the white-guy volunteered to change places with him since the ‘crazy’ had a problem with the white guy standing there. That solved the problem-but it didn’t stop the ‘crazy’ from talking reckless.
‘For all ya’ll that didn’t ova-stand what I just did, FUCK YA’LL muh-fuckas!’ He muttered while coming near me. What the hell does 'ova-stand' mean anyways? I just hoped this fool didn’t have a gun. I thought about ways to attack him in case he tried to get at me. I would definitely be kicking him in the balls if he tried me. I was not scared either.
But again, thank you Jesus. He took his crazy-ass to the middle of the train and finally shut-the- hell up. I just looked at him and went back to reading my notes. I think we all have a little crazy in us-but that dude just wasn’t right. Some people have nothing better to do than disturb peaceful commuters.
History does repeat itself. The same way I wore my same sweater, on the same day one year later, I'm sure that same 'crazy' will go onto the next train and terrorize more innocent Irish-men.
OK, so technically my sweater has nothing to do with my train experience. But, you know what I’m saying.
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