Disorientation

 

 

 

 

 

 

Why she picked me, I don’t know.

Across the crowded square a woman heads my way.
Then stops.

“Where is hospital?” She demands, abruptly.
Sounding irritated.
Like somebody whose day is being made unnecessarily difficult.

“Just up there,” I point.

“You come with me!”
“Sorry, I have to go in the opposite direction.”

“Where do you live?” she asks.
“Around the corner…”
“In Kingsdown?”
“Yes.”
“We live there.”
“Oh.”
(I wonder why a local would need guiding to the hospital dominating our skyline.)

“What do you do?”
“Er…”

Finding her attitude confusing, I consider whether to attempt explaining my illness, or seek refuge in vagueness.
She immediately changes the subject, again.

“Where is Dighton street?”
“Behind these offices.”
“You show me!”
“Really, you can’t miss it,” I gesture.

“Where is police station?”
“Along that road…”
“Take me to police station!”
“But it’s quite easy to…”

“No!
You come to police station with me!”

 

I’m even less keen on this request, than previous ones.

 

While searching for some polite remedy, I suddenly become aware of a short man, and  young boy, standing next to me: sharing embarrassed smiles.

Turning, the woman begins angrily scolding them.
“What is your problem?!”
She exclaims, as if they are persistent nuisances.

The child’s look seems to say:
“Thank you, but she is a little crazy. We’ll take over now.”

Noticing she appears to have forgotten about me, I move away.
Still hearing her berate the silent males.
“What is your problem?!”
She repeats, loudly.

 

I felt relief mingle with shame.
At my failure to reduce the suffering of others, around me.

The city held so much unhappiness.
Including mine.

Depressed and sick, I viewed myself as useless:
saw my helpfulness as vain.

 

Thus I walked, more sadly, on.

Toward the distant mall.

 

 

 

 

---

 

(2006)

 

---

 

Hi everyone!

Hope you are well?

My old prose resisted another transition to poetry, during editing, this week.
Though the writing seemed tempted that way, slightly, at the end.

(Any art on the blog is mine.)

 

Your comments are always VERY welcome! 🙂

Thank you for reading.

 

 

---

( anxiety / art / blog / blogging / culture / depression / life / mental health / poetry / reading / story / thoughts / writing )

Advertisement