Reality

He's always thought that reality was somewhere between depression and joy. You needed both but neither in their pure form was real. One’s gut reaction when they’re down is too negative and hateful, just like one’s reaction when they’re up is overlooking and overly trusting. You need both, they need, they balance and affect each other. Our man saw things from the slightly down side, least that what’s he thought. He no longer fully trusted his happiness unless it was tinged with a viewpoint of sadness or “reality”.
His warped and over-extended mind walks down the street. He spots an older man dressed well in a dapper hat and sport coat jump into a small, cheap european car. How great, he thought, a self respecting and fashionable man willing to drive a small, unassuming car. It showed a strength, and was one reason he actually liked this liberal, progressive city. It made him smile, but no sooner than this fleeting thought occurred, it was chased by another- He knew the man had to be flashing that bit of style to hide the pain and sorry excuse for a life that is this city. The dapper hat and coat were hiding the fact that he was probably a bitter, spent and lonely old man who still watches porn and stocks up on his microwave meals at the store once a week. He can feel the joy slipping away from him when it happens. It’s like somebody has turned a switch, changed the props and stage in a play, day and night, in a fleeting moment. So frustrating, but- “WHOA! Sorry, my fault.”
He runs into a guy much bigger than he is, who wheels around, ready to fight it seems, and flashing a stare that looks like he’s in a cage match to the death. Our man doesn’t know how to take it, I mean it’s almost funny to him, and to his own surprise, he starts to laugh.