Perfect World

It's no secret that the world is a terrible place. Violence, murder, rape, drugs, and much more. It runs our lives, actions; everything. The moment you step outside, this is obvious. The disgusting haze of pollution that hovers over the world, forever ready to rain down it's horrors onto an already blighted world. But the worst? Everyone knows, but nobody cares.

I took a walk the other day. I went out into this world for a reason I, myself, can't yet figure out. Maybe it was to find a solution. Maybe I was searching for a small glint of hope. Maybe I was just braving the storm of insanity. I'm not sure. But I went out and observed the world. The streets, the malls, the social hangouts. It was ugly, but at the same time, it was beautiful.

I walked the streets. Brick walls were covered in graffiti; the pinnacle of modern art. It screamed at me. Shouted messages in a broken language. I felt like it was trying to tell me something. To tell me how much the world hurt. Like a bible would preach it's religion, it preached the world's pain. Nearby, a bum lay on the ground. He was passed out. An open bottle of hard liquor in his limp hands. All that his money could buy him. He works so hard to simply forget it all at the end of the day. Can we blame him?

There was a coffee shop on the corner. Two guys sat outside. Two sickos sharing the name of "human". They shouted of sex and pornography to girls passing by. They berated school children and picked fights with those who were doomed with a similar stupidity. As I walked passed, they looked at me. Their eyes spoke their mind. In them, I saw hate. I saw a primal urge to hurt and kill. I kept walking. I couldn't care less.

The malls were no different. The mass of social parasites gathered in numbers. They talked about anything and everything. They wasted their money on the trivial and mundane. They complained about the sorry state of the world, as if they knew. If only they had eyes to see. To see how major a role they play in this mess. It made me sick. There was graffiti here, too. Unlike before, this was different. It didn't speak of the world. It was more of a mark. Photographic evidence of human deterioration. Displayed as if they were proud of how far they've fallen.

But I saw things I didn't expect. I saw happiness. I saw hope. I saw a small shred of sanity still fighting against the darkness. I passed a park. It was full of children; smiling, laughing, playing, having fun. The park was their world. A world for them to live in their own little worlds. Free and protected from my world.

Two blocks down, a man tried to rape a woman. A passer-by stopped him. A complete stranger took a knife for someone he's never met, so she could be saved from another horror. I stood in awe. Not because of the blood, or the misfortune to see this take place; but because someone had actually been there to help. My walk was over. I headed home.

As I walked through the door of my house, I dropped to my knees. Tears began flowing from my eyes. I had been so blind. I spent so much time obsessing over the bad. I had assumed the world to be nothing more than infection; a disease to our galaxy. I failed to see what I had become. Failed to see that I had become what I hated most. As I sat there; mind racing as the crying slowed, light from the afternoon sun shone in through the window. As I looked out of it, I could see the city. It looked different now. the haze of pollution, the towering behemoths of corporate offices, it all looked different. It had a glow to it; shining with an unnameable radiance. It was beautiful.

At that moment; that one fragment of time where a parade of emotions flared inside me, I realized something. For all that's wrong with the world, for all it's crap and blights, the world is perfect. Flawless in it's design and mechanics.

I went for a walk again. This time, I went to enjoy the good.