Imagine this. There are three black and white photos of three different people. None of them are the same age, nor do they live the same life. Somehow, they are connected to each other. Somehow, they are ever so alike.
Imagine a picture of a beautiful, pristine lady. A lady that hasn’t encountered the world, but has seen enough of it. She’s wearing a large, heavy coat and black heels that click against the ground when she walks. There is an umbrella in her right hand, which the rain aimlessly fell upon, and a large bag in her left. She is not a child; the bag doesn’t swing or sway.
She is walking on a sidewalk in the Big Apple. She is surrounded by an endless swarm of people, yet she trudges on, ignoring the chatter. She walks upright and poise, as though she is of high authority and is full of confidence. She has short hair that curls ever so perfectly, but it hides underneath a hat. Her lips look bright red, despite the monotone picture. Her eyes are closed like she knows exactly what she’s doing. She’s walking, yet she doesn’t to see in order to do so. She knows every direction, every left and right turn. She keeps on walking. Walking down the sidewalks again and again. One step after the other.
Now, imagine a man who’s grown weary of everything he’s done; years and years of tiredness etched on his face. He sits on a bar stool; empty bottles of beer by his side. He sits amongst a rowdy crowd. There were a mixture of voices from every corner of the room, from college students to old men. He also has a cane, worn down from many, many years of use. It stands alongside him, just as it had year after year. He wears a suit and tie that seems tailored just for him. No one else.
The time on the dull, gold watch on his left hand says 12:30. It’s past midnight; he had too much to drink. However, he remains seated at the bar. There is hardly any hair left on his head, save for a few whiskers. He smokes from a pipe. Behind perfectly fitted glasses are gray eyes that hold no emotion. Dark pupils that stare off into nothing, for there’s nothing there to see. Nothing truly worthwhile. He continues to wait at the bar, even as others start to leave and the noise becomes silent. He just keeps on staring and staring and staring…
For the third picture, imagine a young girl. A child full of innocence and purity. In her arms, she cradles a toy. A fluffy teddy bear that she holds onto for dear life. She is wearing a polka-dotted dress with a bow at the top. There’s a bow upon her head too. Her hair falls down to her shoulders.
She is standing in the middle of a playground. There are other kids, but they don’t notice her, and she doesn’t notice them. The other kids are playing games and laughing, but she doesn’t mind them. She doesn’t even look at them. She’s too mature to play these foolish games, considering what has happened. There’s a smile on her face as she looks at her toy. Something about that smile looks odd. She is smiling, but she doesn’t look happy. Then why does she smile? Whatever the case, she continues to smile anyways.
Imagine those three pictures again. How could they be similar in any way? Think about it. A lady that walks blindly, a man that continuously stares off into nothing, and a young girl that smiles without joy. One thing they have in common is that they repeat their actions over and over again. But there has to be more to it than that. That can’t be it. Think.
Imagine this: the lady in walking without thinking about direction and whatnot. Every step she takes seems as though it was programmed. Fifteen steps up, turn left… She isn’t really thinking about anything, yet she continues to do whatever she’s suppose to do . Let’s put it this way: She is completing a task she feels nothing for. This isn’t just for her walking; this is for everything she has done. When she finishes something, she’ll merely brush that accomplishment aside and start on something new. There’s no pride or joy. There’s no reward for whatever she has done. Everything seems pointless to her. She continues to mindlessly perform tasks because that’s all she can do. Somewhere or sometime in her life, someone has made her believe that she’s not allowed to be proud of anything she’s done. That she can’t even have her own thoughts about a certain thing. She grew up believing that. She listens to others when they speak but doesn’t speak out herself because she feels no need to. Now, she’s left alone in this world. No one to turn to. No one. It’s just her and the dripping rain.
Imagine this: the old man’s eyes are truly devoid of anything, even as he continues to stare at nothing. He looks as though he’s given up; like everything is pointless. He’s empty. Nothing but a shell of a man. Now, he drinks his life away, bottle after bottle. The truth is, he can’t do anything anymore. His age has caught up to him. His burning desire has been burnt out. He’s too tired to even try, so he doesn’t bother trying. He was once saving lives. He was able to save people, to help them! People looked up to him. Then, someone took his fire away. The second he became too old to help, he lost his job. He’s even lost the people he trusts and love, for they have left him. Now, he sits there, waiting and waiting for something or someone. Something that he could be passionate about. Something that would bring the fire back to life. Someone that can accompany him again. Someone that can help him. However, they’re all long gone. To cope with that, he drinks. Sometimes, the eldest people are not the wisest. Even though life for him is boring, he continues to sit there, staring at nothing; waiting and waiting for the fire within him to light once again, even though it is lost. It’s now just him and his alcohol.
Imagine this: the young girl’s smile is stretched across her face. She is smiling and smiling, but she isn’t happy. On the outside, it looks as if she is the happiest kid in the world. Of course, that’s what people see. No one bothers to dig deeper. Either that, or they just don’t care. She keeps smiling because it is like a mask that she wears. A mask to hide behind. Afterall, we all have our fair share of secrets. Right now, her bear is her only company. She appreciates the toy, but she still isn’t truly happy. For Heaven’s sake, she is just a child! What could’ve happened to make her this way. Something or someone must’ve hurt her, whether it is physically or emotionally. By all means, anything could have happened. That ‘anything,’ however, changed her life for the worse. She was suppose to grow up like all the other kids, become a teenager, and experience life like everyone else. That ‘anything’ took that away from her. On top of that, no one bothers to help her, even though she needs the help. Someone told her that she can’t ask for help or else she’ll be weak. She has to face whatever has happened alone as a child because the world is just watching. They’re never going to help her. So it’s just her. Just a young, smiling girl and her toy against the world.
In a sense, they’ve all lost something, whether it was a sense of pride, passion, or joy. There lives has become an endless cycle, an endless routine of the same thing. Walking, staring, or smiling. Performing tasks, waiting, or hiding. There was something in their lives that has changed him, so I say this. Do not tell people that they cannot feel a certain way about things. If they want to be proud, let them. They have accomplished so much in their life. If they want to be passionate, let their fire burn. If anything, encourage them to be greater. If they want or need help, then help them. Most importantly, do not abandon people without good reason. If they have hurt you, then it’s ok to leave. Otherwise, don’t leave them to face the world alone. They will need guidance at some point. It’s not for the three people in the photo either. It’s for every person in this world. They start to live on without contemplating anything. Just imagine a life where nothing is worthwhile. Every hope and dream you had, every thought, was nothing. Just another pointless thought. Imagine if your life was a constant cycle; a routine that repeats itself over and over and over again. Imagine a soundtrack with nothing but silence. Imagine a painting that’s blank. Imagine a glass pitcher without any drinks. Imagine living a life like that. Just imagine it.
