Today. Was no different.
I sat scarffing down a sub sandwich. Chipotle ranch, honey bourbon and hot sauce. Cheeze swiss. Grilled Chicken. Lettuce. Toasted wheat bread. Rapped into a tube of food.
I use the fork to pouch any entrails that have fallen out. No man left behind. No morsel escapes.
I sit with my sunglasses Shamelessly dawning my face, glancing around the room at the knowledge of no one. The food settled in my stomach, as I settle in my chair.
Down. Down I go. The food takes over my body. I want to sleep.
"Quick Vagabond! Move like a nomad and leave this cafeteria before you make your home at this table!"
Now walking around the campus of Shining Star University I know I must read before class arrives.
What a nice day outside. It's so indifferent. Too much for me to be different.
I sit outside and read. My obligation now overcoming the food settling in my stomach. No. I'm not brightly chipper with a delightful demeanor. I'm learning back against a pole, leg crossed, book in lap, Sunglasses on, highlighter in hand. Mosquito bite.
I luvely lady passes by.
"Well don't you look all sophisticated with you book open, sunglasses on and ear phones on."
Really? I'll take it.
My posture slouched. The fatigue on my aura. A mantainence worker stops in his cart and says.
"Keep on reading man. Keep on reading until you get that piece of paper."
I say thanks.
He must have assumed me to be terribly bogged down in studies, thus resulting in my slouchy disposition. He had no clue that 20 minutes earlier I had consumed several calories of comatose, thus resulting in my current physical appearance.
Despite the reality, his words meant something. While I read Milan Kundera, he read the markings on a gas meter. And I wonder if. On another day. On another time. Would I say to him.
"Hey. Keep on reading that meter. Pay days on the 1st and the 15h."
I hardly think that's appropriate. I wont say that.
I'll just keep reading.