bus stop

unlike some other african-american that i encounter everyday at downtown, he neither scream nor cuss at people. he was loud, alright, but he never forces anyone to hear him. (i have seen some people drag or force another person to listen to whatever he/she is saying)

i hear his voice coming from the other side of the street. he stands on the northbound edge of the side street, waving his arms left and right in enthusiasm as he speaks about the beast and the harlot in revelations. he wears a plain white t-shirt with a pair of baggy jeans. i try my best to hear his entire speech but the passing cars and busses cut the airwaves from his side of the street. all i get to hear are the words god, jesus, limbs, beast and harlots.

people racing against the morning clock pass by him as if he never exists on the sidewalk. they could have heard him, they could pretend they don’t. i don’t know. i, myself do not comprehend the idea of his speech. i give it a shot. i try to listen to him, thinking that he could be saying something relevant and important to mankind and i don’t want to miss his point. what if he is the modern noah calling the people to build an ark to save themselves? what if he’s the modern john the baptist announcing the second coming of the messiah? what if he’s another mentally challenged individual preaching the hell out his brains just for the heck of it? i don’t know.

i try to comprehend his speech for a couple of minutes.

then he says something about love.

the bus arrives at the stop.
i totally miss his point.