EMOtions

The Intro?

Monday, that day some of us adore and others envy. That day a new week begins and the tape rolls again. That day you see your friends after that weekend. And the day I wear my mask...again.

It became such a repetitive cycle for me now, in fact it's so cynical it's just like a daily routine such as getting dressed in the morning. I'm not a good writer but a storyteller for sure I am...Zack is my name or Z to you. I'm just that ordinary guy that you will barge into on the Tube or laugh at in the park, I live the life many are lucky not to live. And they don't even know that, it shatters me sometimes but on the other hand it lets me survive in this social filter which is like a giant sorting system that aims to funnel individuals into groups with nothing but tags.

Saturday was a day like no other, the only difference is that I stayed at home, so I didn't have to wear my mask... What mask? You may ask. The one that I put on just before I go out in public to cover the scars and bruises, not the ones you get from physical abuse, but mental neglection and fracture. I try to hide them so I don't scare anyone away when I look them in the eyes, because they would only see a boy who suffered, suffered too much in his life. I also have to keep the smile on my face and not let it fall because it's the only part of me that makes me look happy. It's the only thing left of Zack, the real Zack not the one that wears a mask and a fictitious smile. Sound depressing doesn't it, unfortunately this is what many of us go through not just me. But individuals like me a somewhat rare. Why? Because suicide, rape, drugs and violence often take over many others that opt out because they can't handle it anymore and give up.

We are like the post-sociatic people who survived the vicious abuse of our emotions and live not as souls but as a costumes. We don't fear death because we live with it by our side all day, every day. Mondays are usually the hardest, because for the weekend I don't go out simply because I fear. So when the new week arrives I stutter and fumble for things as I worry about my mask falling off as I can barely hold one end with the other. But I'm not given the choice, I get up and leave heading west, for my school where tension meets relief. My stash of friends of which only a couple are friends are there, even though I sometimes feel like a placeholder I keep their side because I don't ask for anything, maybe just to listen to my stories and nothing else. I say this because my fiends can't help me but I can help them, so they can have someone to talk to if all the others turn around facing their backs. So they can have someone to make fun of and see that I'm okay with that.

Life doesn't give me options, that's why I live with no choices and decisions. And when mam asks me to think of a wish as I blow the candles on yet another cake in my life, I pretend to make one and I just smile hoping they will see. However there is one thing that makes me smile, and that's happy people and ones I helped. One time I came across McDonald's in central London which I attended numerous times. I always came across this one man and his dog companion at the entrance, he was homeless and lonely. We sometimes ignore these people because we think they are fake and as soon as you give them that pound they will spend it on alcohol, this leads the society in the wrong direction as we make a stereotypical thought about them; they are all the same, they are all fakes. But this man didn't have a missing leg or finger which excused him to beg for money, he sat there with his malnourished puppy, a rucksack and a cup with one or two coins.

I walked passed him into the building. I ordered some food from the staff and I waited, and waited and in that time I stood by the counter a young lady came with her food and she said 'Excuse me but this is not my food'. And what really made me cry on the inside is that the woman behind the counter took the burger and what did she do with it... She threw it in the bin and replied, 'I'm really sorry your meal will be ready ASAP'. And then I looked at the man just outside who had nothing to feed him or his dog. I wanted to cry and mock the society at the same time, it really got into my heart and I knew that if I didn't do anything I would feel guilty for a long time and I would blame myself for the rest of my life if the man or the dog passed away. So I got my food and I looked at it and then looked at the man outside feeling sorry. I approached him:

"Here you go, I got you some food and a nice burger for your dog"

He looked me in the eyes and I saw tears massing in his lower eyelid, I felt so emotional and happy that I made his day. And one thing I didn't understand is why people looked at me like a strange creature from outer space, I was helping someone that must have lived through something terrible and yet many were being judgemental towards me. I then walked away into Liverpool Street Station.

Sometime later in the week I went there again to get myself, the man and the puppy some food because I felt like it was right. However I was torn when I saw the man on his own, without the dog. I wiped my tears and once again approached him. I asked him what happened to the dog and he started to cry. I had to stay strong and I was lucky I had my mask which let me cry on the inside just like every day. He then told me his dog was ripped out of his hands and abused so much he was taken away and ended up fighting for his life in one of the vet clinics. He then told me he can't have it back because he can't provide him a good life.

It all made me feel responsible, I blamed myself over and over again even though I'm not responsible for a single thing in this stranger's life. I asked him where his dog was...

The next day I scavenged for money in my room and I went to the clinic with mum. The dog was recovering and he was up for adoption. I decided to adopt the puppy; Clio was his name. After I made my way to that place that really changed a lot in me the man was there and when he saw me with his dog walking towards me he cried, cried and cried but not of fear or loss but of joy. And Clio was uplifted when he saw his companion, I returned him his dog and walked away.

This changed the way I look at the world, and it's really sad to see what the society actually is like. All the wars we've been through, all the committees that fought for our liberty lead us to this piece of crap that the society resembles today. I want to sit and cry, in the news we hear that homeless people are like rubbish on the ground, that really penetrates my heart because these people that say these things haven't experienced what I have and yet they have the guts to make these opinions that influence the nation as the whole which leads to the entire world being infected with this disease and this is just an example out of the box full of countless problems many suffer. And this all rounds up to have an effect on individuals like me, ones that have to hide from the rest.

How am I supposed to feel when I see people making fuss about their parents divorcing, or that their sister stole their forty pence. They feel like it's the pinnacle of their life, that they will break down because of that... I've lived through so many different things that some problems of others seem like a good comedy of Friends on a Friday evening.