Walking Ways

Every day, I walk my way. It doesn’t matter where I’ll go for as long as I reach a certain destination. At the end of the day, I know where I’ll be: HOME.

My day starts normally. I wake up, I eat my breakfast (if there is any food left from the night before), I walk. Typical. Every day, I see all types of people – the working ones, students, others anticipating good fortune out of an interview they will be heading at, Mothers at the market picking goods for their family, children playing in the streets and then there are people like me. The ones who know nothing but to walk and use their voices to convince people to listen. To even notice.

I carry this heavy bag on my right hand, five or so notepads on my left hand. I wear no protection from the sun or rain. I leave everything to chances. You might say that I am a risk taker. I don’t prepare for the inevitable. When the sun is out, I walk miles, I try to make a living. When the sky pours its tears, I stay grounded waiting and wishing for it to stop. To give me this chance to do what I have to do and get home with something to feed myself – or just survive for the day.

Most of the time, people just look at me. I don’t know if it’s because they pity me, they wanted to hear what I have to say or they are curious how I became like this. I don’t know how to do intelligent stuff. I use my will as a basis for everything – my will to live, my will to survive. Today, I have been to one of these busy cities. I have been here numerous times, no one pays much attention but I come back anyway. I like it here. I like walking these streets, reliving all the memories of my life lived. I have no regrets. People say that you don’t have to regret anything that made you happy. At one point in my life, this city made me happy. This is where I used to spend time with my family – the only ones that I ever cared for and because of my choices, I lost them.

I never had a family myself. I go and return home alone. There is no one to welcome me. To ask me how my day was. If there would be any regret I have, it is not finding someone to love. I was busy merry-making. I was busy letting life pass me by. Now, here I am. Walking this way, envying people that doesn’t seem happier than I am. No one ever told me how awful I look. That I look like the world is on my shoulders. While walking, when I see my reflection on car glasses, I can’t see myself. I have forgotten how to smile. How to thank my Maker that I am alive for another day. I have even forgotten how to smile (or what it means to smile).

I know we all have stories to tell. We all have crosses to bear but I wonder… when will they ever pay attention to this dirty-looking, pitiful old man that tries his best to ignore all the pains in the world while trying to convince people that he is worth their time. I wonder when that time will come. I wonder.