Umm… What surprises me, to this day is, well, is how I never think of him when I’m at home or working or with my children or on holiday or… or buying grocery.
No, it’s funny, I never think… Sometimes, sometimes I even… I tell myself I will but then, I don’t know for some reason, I…I… I don’t… It’s almost as bizarre as, you know… him? Ha.
But then as I get off the train and, umm, I guess even as it slows down for my station, he is… he is… he is all I have in mind. Just him! All the way, as I walk to my building, to my desk at work, there is this nothing else I think about.
Umm…
Things like, you know, the obvious… What? Why? How long?
No, no, no… I take it that he will be there. Same place, same clothes, same expression.
It’s one of the few things that are a safe bet nowadays. Hahaha! You know? With all these rumours of recession and the stock markets, it’s nice… Haha?
Okay, I’m getting late. Thanks. Thanks, dear. Will this be in the news? Oh?! Oh, thanks.
***
You know from where I sit at work, it’s the 39th floor and I can see him sitting there.
I have been with him since the beginning. Three years right? Three years! Can you believe that?
***
I think there is a lot we need to learn from him.
You know… why he selected this place? He sits before the busiest business centre in the country, perhaps the world!
That says a lot. He is saying a lot without having uttered a single word in all these years.
It’s a judgement. Here is this man, his silence, his stillness, mocking us. Our lives, our society and how all of us are just mere slaves of money.
That sort of thing.
Really, if you ask me, there is a lot we can learn from him. I have, you know, I value different things now. My family, my kids, my friends. You know the, the real things.
***
Of course now it’s much less of a spectacle. In the beginning it was crazy. Remember?
Some days, when I’m working late, and the office is almost empty, I walk down to the street for a smoke. And there he is; I stand before him, right before him.
Does he notice this?
Yes. Hahaha. I stand like I would before a painting.
And if it’s raining… That’s when it’s poetic.
His legs crossed at the ankles, and his fingers hanging between his thighs, like always. Except now there is rain. And he just sits there, soaked…
And when the winds gather pace, his shirt, that striped linen shirt, it starts to flutter madly. As if it’s trying to escape.
Ya, like it’s trying to run away.
If you look closely, he is as tranquil as ever. Maybe even more so.
And all the rain in the world and the strongest winds amount to nothing. Because that scrawny man sitting there won’t move. And he doesn’t protest. He just doesn’t take note.
Cars whizz by, colouring him in red and yellow and blue. And he won’t even blink.
I’m sorry.
***
Is it a message from God? Bah. You have all these crazy people queuing up before him, singing, lighting candles, leaving him food and clothes and flowers. The say the world will end the day he doesn’t turn up.
Woo-ooo-ooo.
That’s such a load of shit. He is just a smart man! Imagine being so famous, and rich, they say the newspapers pay him millions. They must be! And what for? For sitting on a fucking bench before offices where millions of people fucking work their asses off to earn a living. An honest motherfucking living. What a sick fucking bastard!
He is playing with us. I say they should put him in fucking jail. I know I’ll be the unpopular one around here, but someone’s got to stand up and say the motherfucking truth.
Message from God. Jesus Fucking Christ, eh? Jesus Fucking Christ!!
If he has a fucking message, when the fuck is he going to say it? After Judgement Day, eh?
What’s he waiting for? Motherfucker?!
***
That is as false an accusation as one can make. He has never taken any money from the offerings made at the site. We have round the clock footage of the man since the first day.
Well, yes, you’re right no one can say with authority that that was exactly the first day. But we are sure it’s pretty close. At this location, that is.
We are not sure if this has happened elsewhere.
He does pick a little food and occasionally, every few months, the odd piece of clothing.
Hahaha. We wish he’d take a little more. It’s a nightmare maintaining the area.
Err, yes, you are exactly right, we donate the rest.
Personally? I don’t know; I have no opinion on the man.
***
He gives us hope. There is peace in his eyes. They placed a crying baby in his hands once. They had to hold the little baby, because he wouldn’t.
After a while, the baby stopped crying! That’s amazing? Just like the movies.
No, it’s just him. The others are just losers who are trying to be like him. One of them idiots from downtown tried to sit outside our block, in the same way, he even wore the same clothes; he passed out in the heat by the afternoon. Asshole, was taken to the hospital. Haha.
***
On behalf of the people of this great nation, I wish Mr. Isaac Singer the best. I do hope he finds what he is looking for and the prayers of my family and me are always with him.
***
I think what bothers me is the lack of explanation.
I mean who is Isaac Singer? Why does he walk to that bench every morning to sit in the same clothes wearing the same expression for the last three years? What’s he trying to prove? When will he say something? Why is he doing this to himself?
And yet, these unanswered questions form the beauty of the whole thing.
You know what I’m waiting for, the day he says something, or doesn’t show up. The day the mystery unfolds.
And yet, that’s a day I dread more than any other.
No, it’s funny, I never think… Sometimes, sometimes I even… I tell myself I will but then, I don’t know for some reason, I…I… I don’t… It’s almost as bizarre as, you know… him? Ha.
But then as I get off the train and, umm, I guess even as it slows down for my station, he is… he is… he is all I have in mind. Just him! All the way, as I walk to my building, to my desk at work, there is this nothing else I think about.
Umm…
Things like, you know, the obvious… What? Why? How long?
No, no, no… I take it that he will be there. Same place, same clothes, same expression.
It’s one of the few things that are a safe bet nowadays. Hahaha! You know? With all these rumours of recession and the stock markets, it’s nice… Haha?
Okay, I’m getting late. Thanks. Thanks, dear. Will this be in the news? Oh?! Oh, thanks.
***
You know from where I sit at work, it’s the 39th floor and I can see him sitting there.
I have been with him since the beginning. Three years right? Three years! Can you believe that?
***
I think there is a lot we need to learn from him.
You know… why he selected this place? He sits before the busiest business centre in the country, perhaps the world!
That says a lot. He is saying a lot without having uttered a single word in all these years.
It’s a judgement. Here is this man, his silence, his stillness, mocking us. Our lives, our society and how all of us are just mere slaves of money.
That sort of thing.
Really, if you ask me, there is a lot we can learn from him. I have, you know, I value different things now. My family, my kids, my friends. You know the, the real things.
***
Of course now it’s much less of a spectacle. In the beginning it was crazy. Remember?
Some days, when I’m working late, and the office is almost empty, I walk down to the street for a smoke. And there he is; I stand before him, right before him.
Does he notice this?
Yes. Hahaha. I stand like I would before a painting.
And if it’s raining… That’s when it’s poetic.
His legs crossed at the ankles, and his fingers hanging between his thighs, like always. Except now there is rain. And he just sits there, soaked…
And when the winds gather pace, his shirt, that striped linen shirt, it starts to flutter madly. As if it’s trying to escape.
Ya, like it’s trying to run away.
If you look closely, he is as tranquil as ever. Maybe even more so.
And all the rain in the world and the strongest winds amount to nothing. Because that scrawny man sitting there won’t move. And he doesn’t protest. He just doesn’t take note.
Cars whizz by, colouring him in red and yellow and blue. And he won’t even blink.
I’m sorry.
***
Is it a message from God? Bah. You have all these crazy people queuing up before him, singing, lighting candles, leaving him food and clothes and flowers. The say the world will end the day he doesn’t turn up.
Woo-ooo-ooo.
That’s such a load of shit. He is just a smart man! Imagine being so famous, and rich, they say the newspapers pay him millions. They must be! And what for? For sitting on a fucking bench before offices where millions of people fucking work their asses off to earn a living. An honest motherfucking living. What a sick fucking bastard!
He is playing with us. I say they should put him in fucking jail. I know I’ll be the unpopular one around here, but someone’s got to stand up and say the motherfucking truth.
Message from God. Jesus Fucking Christ, eh? Jesus Fucking Christ!!
If he has a fucking message, when the fuck is he going to say it? After Judgement Day, eh?
What’s he waiting for? Motherfucker?!
***
That is as false an accusation as one can make. He has never taken any money from the offerings made at the site. We have round the clock footage of the man since the first day.
Well, yes, you’re right no one can say with authority that that was exactly the first day. But we are sure it’s pretty close. At this location, that is.
We are not sure if this has happened elsewhere.
He does pick a little food and occasionally, every few months, the odd piece of clothing.
Hahaha. We wish he’d take a little more. It’s a nightmare maintaining the area.
Err, yes, you are exactly right, we donate the rest.
Personally? I don’t know; I have no opinion on the man.
***
He gives us hope. There is peace in his eyes. They placed a crying baby in his hands once. They had to hold the little baby, because he wouldn’t.
After a while, the baby stopped crying! That’s amazing? Just like the movies.
No, it’s just him. The others are just losers who are trying to be like him. One of them idiots from downtown tried to sit outside our block, in the same way, he even wore the same clothes; he passed out in the heat by the afternoon. Asshole, was taken to the hospital. Haha.
***
On behalf of the people of this great nation, I wish Mr. Isaac Singer the best. I do hope he finds what he is looking for and the prayers of my family and me are always with him.
***
I think what bothers me is the lack of explanation.
I mean who is Isaac Singer? Why does he walk to that bench every morning to sit in the same clothes wearing the same expression for the last three years? What’s he trying to prove? When will he say something? Why is he doing this to himself?
And yet, these unanswered questions form the beauty of the whole thing.
You know what I’m waiting for, the day he says something, or doesn’t show up. The day the mystery unfolds.
And yet, that’s a day I dread more than any other.
Posts
13 comments:
that was cool writing. very different from before. and why the long absence? huh?
The Beauty is that you see Isaac Singer and think about him. Imagine life when we don't see the mundane things beyond what immediately affects us.
New to your blog, HI.
Interesting story this. But left me with a void, a sense of being incomplete.
Is that what you were going for?
Sarah
yada - Thanks for calling my writing "cool". i think thats the best thing you can say to somebody! or maybe me? i dont know.
the absence? hmm.. dont know, laziness, lack of time and ideas and maybe just a regular phase for the blog..
don - hmm were you saying that i look beyond the mundane? actually i dont.. its really sad.
sarah - welcome! i dont really know what i was going for. i thought id tell a story of a man who does nothing more than sit on the same bench everyday of his life. and how that makes him famous/rich and everything else that most other people put in work/studying/money for. its crazy but true..
except i decided id just leave it at everyone's reaction to such a man.
someday i might be that man, its my plan B! :)
Read it again, somehow couldnt get it out of my head. Its actually quite disturbing isnt it? I mean to not know, to then examine the reasons, why you are so crazy to know in the first place. The guy is sitting there let him be. whats your problem? Or mine for that matter.
Hmmm
hmm - is it really disturbing? i dont know.
what is most fascinating is that if it were to happen actually, this would be pretty BIG.
Disturbing me, yes.
As for reality, seen quite a few specimens in lower manhattan, nobody pays them any heed.
General malaise that we all suffer from. But when you questioned it, put it in words then one wonders...
there are? oh i must see them..
its strange that no one would take notice.. maybe the specimens aren't as regular.. and maybe they ask for stuff..
that pisses off people in my opinion. people want to feel like they give out of free will!
Actually, speaking for myself, I would do my damn(est) to not look at them. If I cant avoid it I would avert my eyes rather hurriedly.
Something about them used to disturb me at a very deep level. Hence my reaction to your story. I (s)tumbled on it and it made me confront whatever it is that troubles me so about such things.
hmm. guess that means you found the story interesting, hope you liked it too..
read the other stuff. a few months ago i was a prolific short story writer.
of course im living by myself now, so i spend most of my time buying milk and groceries or arguing with the nasty maids.
:)
the other story I like is in the mood for love. you have captured something very deep in that story.
PS: I recently tried my hand at writing, do see my blog if you get the time sometime.
PPS: dont let the maids win, keep writing.
Some people are really mysterious....
How to make a website
yes, esp. the writers of cryptic comments! :)
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