January 5, 2016

61 3 0
                                    

I'm walking down the streets of Chicago with tears in my eyes, no longer trying to hide them. It's cold and windy like it always is. Clouds coat the sky in grey despair, casting a shadow on the world and newspapers with bolded headlines swirl around me like a tornado of truth: unescapable.

Rows of feet hit the sidewalks and streets, some following the path given to them and others straying without a second thought like breaking the law is routine for them; Every step has a purpose, a goal, a destination. These people have control of where they go next.

I aimlessly walk, taking right and left turns when I feel I am approaching the burdens in my life. My next right leads me to a crowded clump of people with signs moving all around. All I hear is shouting, screaming even, that dries up my tears and strips my emotions down until all that is left is unadulterated anger.

The PurposeWhere stories live. Discover now