A Walk on the Blind Side

​As villages morph into towns, suburbs become cities and rich become just richer, some things have to be given up.

Falling while being a part of a supportive community is one thing, but falling apart in the cacophony and chaos of city life is a totally different story indeed. When is it alright to move an indigenous woman on from a latte laden foreshore, a being that has just awakened in her tangled and threadbare sleeping bag, while a young nubile Nike nymph sits no more than meters away, sipping a short black and fingering her ipad.

Black and Grey and a combination of both appear to be the latest office colors this season and as a swarm of citizens disengage from their transport carriers, a march of the mindless begins. With ear phones in, mobile phones out and eyes downcast, an outer town tsunami of humanity descends and marches in some silent yet uncanny coordinated cohesion, upon pavements and roads toward city central. 

Like some trippy scene from a bad magic mushroom shake, the mass daily migration of mute madness engorges all space and available energy. Unknowingly and naively walking toward them is a frightening unnerving experience. An all shades of grey unhearing unseeing horde is not something to be messed with, especially when the mission is to seek out a collective caffeine hit before ascending the towers of power and money. To turn and run would be akin to out swimming a rogue wave, better to dive in and breathe deep.

It wasn’t the lack of eye contact or any human made contact or any contact at all that remained in the memory as the other side of the wave appeared. It was looking back at the homeless beggars, the disabled destitute and mentally ill. That mass of human misery that looked up and slowly moved on as the deaf and blind blast past.