Work, life, family, it all became a mute subject. Sure it spoke, but Leo's ears were inflated with wax regarding what it slipped out. His family kept in touch, trying to keep him morally balanced, but on the other side of the balance been was a bucket of righteous sin. To make a long story short, Leo never walked the parks; as a matter of fact he transformed into a man of rotten dirt. He vacationed with his co-workers through a new extreme in life, and got caught. Caught in a trap of obsession, and materialism like the rest of the Donald Trump Want-To-Be's that he once despised.
He had a wife, but soon after he committed to the new job, she wore the name-tag "ex". A sweet woman, but not so understanding of Leo's brainless state. She would sit alone, molded into her love seat, watching old episodes of Friends while talking to her beloved companions who advised her to part from the male version of an MTV polluted teenage girl.
In all due respect to the man, he was a humdinger of his job- whatever it was. I never fully understood what it entitled, but from what I heard he was promoted after just one week of hardy work. Slightly unorthodox for a Fortune 500 company, but I went with it.
The rumors exchanged from information seeker to information seeker were probably inaccurate, but what flew around was that he landed at the bank about 40,000 a week. It was clear, quite clear actually what he was doing with the money. All you had to do was look into his dark, blood shot eyes to see what sucked the life out of him like an overbearing stage mom. Away from the drugs, his once mild, soothing temperament and charisma joined Atlantis in lost world at sea.
A prick, he turned into a complete prick.
Next came Prostitution, as problems began to peek their heads out of the water. He had sex-workers in numbers similar to troops in Iraq. The spoken word was that these encounters got dirty, Africa dirty- you know, that land where women wear their bare skin as shirts and get raped like an ordinary walk in an American park. It got so bad once, he told me that he had to pay one chick about 5 grand to keep her bleeding, lifeless mouth shut.
I asked him, "What happened to you man. Where did you go?"
He plowed through my heavy green eyes and said, "I've gone no where, I'm still here."
Then he looked perversely at a large breasted woman as his hands conquered his testicles. I thought to myself, yea sure, you haven't changed.
See, to the old Leo, sinning was a big deal. A BIG DEAL.He would avoid any non-christian actions similar to a young black man entering a gated community, or an American taking on a new language.
I asked if he felt bad about who he had become, but surprisingly he shrugged at my questions and faced me with a devil-like, nonchalant smile. He did not care; he was obviously not the same guy. According to his old book, he was a sinner just like married men who masturbated, but that book was interred into the ground by a razor sharp shovel, leaving Leo with no moral guidelines.
Being fair is my thing, and I do not live my life by some bible. Some fucking book that was written by a group of 'Godly' men who thought it was a great idea to direct my lifestyle. That's just equivalent to giving government the right to rule on abortion.
Being open-minded, I understood this misinterpreted idea of sinning. Sure, in Americas book Leo was Osama, but the man who judges on his sinful, or pure actions is Leo. If he felt no pain, no remorse, no guilt, no utter disgust in his actions- Well then I say in his book, the only book that matters, he plays the role of an invincible man with morals made up of fresh water.
What is sinning?... Is Leo Lilo wrong? Sick? Who is to judge?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment