Where in God’s wretched name is Carmen Sandiego?

I enter the 6 subway line on 110th street. I always semi-run down the stairs and when someone is in front of me, I’m noticeably impatient. It might be rude and kind of care what strangers think of me; I do not know why. I swipe my metrocard while staring at it and push the turnstyle with my waist enter the station. I look across the platform in hopes of finding someone to fall in love with. No one today. I walk along the platform but not too close to the edge. I don’t wish to die today. I look in the eyes of all the unfamiliar and realize we are all the same: scared, lost, hungry.

Scared of whats coming or whats right in front of us. Hoping we can handle it and won’t forget who we are in the process. Trying to stay on our feet but if we fall, let’s not stare at the ground in hope for answers. Get right back up and prove to nobody but yourself that you are everything and everything is you.

Lost in a life where nothing is easy to find. God’s lab rats. We are the trial and error process. We have mastered it. But with enough errors should come the correct procedures, right? Wrong. Not in this case. Keep your eyes open and discover things that you’ve never known. Place your stamp on it and you will be remembered, Christopher Columbus.

Hungry for something new. Trying to remain human and stay away from the robotic instances that we have grown so close with. Monday through Friday, 9 to 5 is aching for something more. Something that you deserve and that will come eventually. Don’t lose your appetite.

I approach a wall to lean on and stare deep into nothingness as the bass from my  headphones shakes my glasses, disrupting my vision. Shaking the world in my snow globe of music, hoping to somehow change my routine and surroundings. Only failure results. Seeing that distant red light in the dark abyss helps me realize my destination is that much closer as the train creates a whirlwind that I wish I can get caught up in. I walk on the train only to be temporarily blinded by lights and glared at by my fellow passengers. Why?

Is it my height? Because I have grown into something that I have yet to master. My intelligence and my personality has yet to catch up with the 6’2” frame that I bare. My mouth is kept shut in order to prevent disaster from and tarnish my name even further.

Am I ugly? I might be. I have no standards for my physical appearance. I try to impress no one and might genetic makeup may not be helping my case. My eyes are dark and my skin is tarnished. My arms are thin and I slouch in the comfiest of chairs. Maybe I’m exaggerating.

Was I staring at you? I apologize. I get lost in these thoughts since the advertisements above my head cannot keep my attention. They smell like lies and the aroma is strong. So I’m sorry if I was looking at your necklace for longer  than I should’ve. It’s pretty as are you you swear I was looking at your breasts when I promise I wasn’t. Forgive me.

I wonder why I don’t take buses often. It’s bad enough my mind wanders like this on the train. Buses are slower and can see more. More to capture me and keep me locked in a cage of my ferocious thoughts. That’s something I’m not ready for. Absolutely not. So I just focus on my childhood that went by too quickly because it is now that I realize Carmen Sandiego and Waldo are together. Somewhere. They ran off to prevent getting stuck in this quicksand. The quicksand none of us can get saved from and I’m sinking oh so slowly.