What is it that makes a worm? Is it its size, the way it squirms through the floor, the lack of a backbone, or is it the combination of all those traits? If you, my dear Reader, did not dismiss this text already, you might be wondering why I am asking such a question. Well... the reason is that today I think I encountered one.
You see, there is an essence within us which transcends the material world. It is not something you see, at least not with your eyes, but rather it is something you feel. It may also manifest itself physically, shaping our appearance, but it goes much deeper than that. Its roots begin in the very core of oneself and unchanging, remains a part of us until we draw our last breath.
Suffice to say, this is not exactly textbook science, so it is much harder for me to prove there is such a thing as an essence. However, I 'been trying to record every type of essence I came across with and even though there is not much in my notes that might qualify as ¨evidence¨ I think I finally managed to do some progress.
The other day While I was taking the bus, I noticed a stranger who had an essence which resembled that of a worm. He was a tiny man wearing a cheap suit two times his size. He had a bureaucratic, red tie which was loosen, a pair of black shoes and a fedora hanging from his head. His hands started fidgeting while he anxiously scrutinized his surroundings as if every noise and sudden movement was a motive to be frightened. No matter how much his eyes wandered through the bus, he never dared to make eye contact with anyone in there. When he reached his stop, he slithered through the crowded bus in order to get out, however, the door was blocked by a large muscular man who did not even notice him, Like the lion who is not aware of the bugs he kills while he runs. He did not dare to ask for permission, instead, he directed a look full of hatred towards the man and managed to squeeze himself out of the bus.
Since that day I've been thoroughly Searching for people like him, and the results were truly enlightening. They are all over the city, walking through the park, sitting on benches, taking the bus, minding their own business as if they lived under the rules of a different society. And they weren't just worms, there were rats, leeches, cockroaches and lots of different bugs, all of them crawling through their meaningless lives trying to get their filthy hands on the crumbs of success left by the strong. I swear, it was like a veil which was lifted upon my sight, revealing a second layer of truth.
They can see us, but we cannot see them, or at least we cannot be bothered to do so, in fact they seem really keen to keep it that way. After observing these creatures for a while, I notice a set of tactics they use to maintain a low profile, it seemed like they borrowed them from the same manual. First of all, they tend to walk really fast, as if they were desperate to hide as soon as possible. While on the streets, they keep their heads low and a crooked posture in order to occupy the least amount of space. They never ask for permission, instead, they squeeze their slim figures through the smallest of spaces like the man from the bus, avoiding eye contact, or any human interaction at all cost, which is quite ironic since they are aware the most of the very same people they are trying to hide from. Even when we speak to them, we fail to acknowledge their existence. That's because of another tactic in their playbook: When spoken to, they keep their answers short and concise, responding in a barely audible tone, that way you'll forget them as soon as you turn around. It is rather astute don't you think? To cover themselves in their own mediocrity? I dare say it is brilliant, absolutely brilliant.
Why are they trying to remain unseen? I don't know, it beats me. Maybe they are scare of us. No, it is quite silly. Perhaps they are members of secret magic organization living in the gutters. Nah, too farfetched.
Appearance wise, as I mentioned before, they tend to be skinny in a rather sickly manner, there are some exceptions of course, but they are fairly uncommon. Their wardrobe varies from cheap suits to straight up rags; what they are wearing is irrelevant though, it is the sensation of filth that their clothes transmit what actually matters. Their eyes... well, it's really hard to say much about them since they escape me so much, the only thing I could grasp was this sensation of unrelenting uneasiness; It's like they could never relax, no matter the environment nor the situation, there is always something present, itching on the back of their minds, that keeps them worried. That anxiety is usually accompanied by a collection of quirks and mannerisms, like playing with their hands, biting their nails, nervously shaking their legs or intensively blinking their eyes, and the few times I heard them speak, they usually stutter.
But that's enough, I'm done researching from a safe distance. It is time to come up close and personal with these creatures. I shall talk to them, befriend them and join them in their ¨safe zones¨. Being that close to them, I'll be able to quickly learn all their intricacies; Why they hide from us? Do they feel threatened by us? What is it that keeps them worried all the time? In order to do that, however, I will have to learn how to blend in. Fortunately, I already know how they behave, how they dressed and how they speak. The problem lies in the fact that I don't know where this people meet for social purposes. Do they go to restaurants? Theatres? Cinemas? Bars? Brothels? I don't know, but I'll surely find out.
