It’s old news that I revisit constantly because I like the realness of it. The story wasn’t cookie cutter perfection. It had its edges still tacked onto it because I didn’t like to waste them. I wish I could say that spark of the chain of events was something accidental. It weighed heavy on my heart like I weighed heavy on my scale. It was a habit that got out of control. It wasn’t a tossed cigarette that sparked a firestorm.
It was tossing a candy wrapper in an empty lot after indulging in something good. Pride was too present to redirect my stride from my destination to actually trash the wrapper. Sure could stop for more candy though, without a second thought. *laughs in disgust* Went back to the store for more and kept tossing wrappers in the same empty lot. Other wrappers and junk accompanied mine. The lot was littered with the trash of treasures that were short lived. Candy was a crave for something deeply delicious. A wrapper was how I felt once I was done enjoying it. An eye catching show of skin I just wanted to throw away. So why more candy? Something hit the taste buds just right. (Don’t knock it ’til you try it.) So I kept on snacking.
I watched that lot become a wasteland. Acknowledged my place in the world walking by it on my daily travels with each toss of a new wrapper. But after that brief moment, it was out of mind. Now the store clerk? The city blamed his consumerism for providing people with junk to scatter. Homie had to make a living though right? Sex and food are two cravings people can’t ignore. He chose one entity and profited well. He was called out for ill-hearted quarterly gains. I was called out for aiding and abetting. I was angry at my part in the matter. Finally being forced to stare at the mess I helped create. I let all that self hatred spin out of control, from my head to the air. At the clerk. At the city for shining a light on all that dark. All that pain I felt I spewed ruining the world I knew, far worse than the litter.
There was no way anyone involved wasn’t gonna face a fine for it. I reacted to this fact in the worst way possible. As if that was gonna shave off dollars from my debt. Back then I didn’t know the wisdom of giving the smallest amount if you have to administer pain. I just did what I wanted to do to counteract mine. My attitude was arrogant and I was truly engorged off what I craved. How do you look at yourself in the mirror after that? You don’t. What becomes of a wasteland once it’s decay is broadcasted? Either someone steps to salvage it or it becomes a lost cause. I can tell you this: that plot of land still looks the same.
All fines were paid. Business still booming. Candy is a luxury everyone wants to indulge in. Because.. homie has to make a living right? Because I’m afraid to know a world where I walk past his store. Fearing the fantasy of seeing abandonment in his heart for choosing to aid myself. Fearing the reality of loneliness without candy to hold onto. Homie probably won’t even care but in my mind he would. So I still consume. I no longer litter. Just stuff wrappers in my pocket. Making the world a little bit of a better place, excluding myself.