I had to take the subway for a trip downtown. Any illusions about being hot shit dies on the train. I had my ticket stuffed in my stuffed wallet that had no money and walked on. Walking on something very strange occurs. I am used to being stared at. Maybe cause I look like shit or my fashion leaves much to be desired or maybe I’m just ugly I don’t know but either way it happens. Not here. I am on some public anti-stage. I am nothing. I am just dirt, less than dirt. Again this is normal but what is not normal is being dirt that is not worth being stared at. The train squeals but no one else says much at all. The rest of the train is behaving as though there is nothing more interesting than the blank walls of the train. I feel relief. I don’t matter but I am no longer on stage. Well shit. The train groans to a trot again and I can look around. Why are people so much better looking in the city? Drop dead beauty everywhere and in every person. I’m not staring I don’t think. Is it the water here? Makeup? Did they kill all the ugly people? I spent some time trying to reason it out. Wait what’s the next station? I look up to check. Orange lights declare it at the end of the train. In this instant I see eyes trained on me. Not close. Safe in the distance of the train car length. Nothing to do but look back.

The natural order of things is restored and I am once again the subject of scorn. Holding more feels like a pair of cigarettes poking me. I look away. I have nothing else to do then think about why this happened. Looking at cement out the window is best for suicidal maniacs which I am but not right now. I look down again at others. No one is looking at anything or are beyond self absorbed. I can’t imagine how they do it. Another jolt into momentum must have connected something in my brain. Its all an act. No different then fake friendly wave to your dirt road neighbour. Then I see them. Side looks, little glances. Those sneaky little shits! Now I feel like I’m watching the wildlife at home. One bird cocks its head. A field mouse holding itself impossibly still. A flamboyant fox watching. Its all a show on tour from station to station with a made up cast. Too bad I don’t know any calls to attract good looking women. This so interesting. End of the line! The train declares it and I don’t know any better so I get off. Back to reality.

I can’t shake how everyone looks. I guess I’m under dressed. Down the street it does not take me long to find out why. You see at home, nobody is rich. Not much anyways. Plenty of work and hardship but just about everyone takes on a load. You know who doesn’t by name. I do anyways, assholes, but this can’t be how its done here. Human sacrifice does the job here. Its obvious! I saw one sacrifice, then another, then a few more. People are more beautiful here thanks to the sacrificial class. Their skin, hearts, health, wealth are burnt at the alter for others. I wonder how they choose who to sacrifice. Do people look at them on the train? Hell if I know. It reminds me I don’t belong here. So does looking up to see more concrete. How’d that graffiti get so high up? Must have some dedicated kids around here. My stop is here. For the next little while, I can set that aside and live in the little universe behind that door. So I do.