Looking down at his feet he saw stones, rubble, candy wrappers… he saw dirt, leaves, twigs, sidewalk pavement, and, Well—candy wrappers.
I know I already said that but this was the fabulous capitalist paradise Chicago, where the ground is studded with riches. Actually we are in the garbage dump of the capitalistic world — a place I lived in that is just a few blocks south of the Chicago neighborhood, “Engelwood.”
Candy wrapper town you might call it was the few blocks I walked if I wanted to go to the little Spanish store or the other businesses. Those blocks were the ones nearest my house. Where I was, my surroundings were an estimated 45% Spanish, 45% Black or Negro If I can say that, and 10% white etc. This was truly a lower-income or working class area. Yet I really didn’t have any special problems. Except with the landlord (another story, also very strange).
These were the humble, the average. That is what everyone calls them. I suppose the kids wanted to make a statement of their own unique individuality and that is why they threw all the candy wrappers down. But I assure you it meant something. Nobody lives without thinking. Desartes said: Cogito. Ergo, sum. They were thinking persons. Thinking and also living. Or maybe thinking, but just only maybe thoughts a bit different than mine.
But, alas, as our “capitalist paradise” declines, which is what I think is happening, I am thinking of those candy wrapper-studded streets. Consider humanity. How much anyone can stand? This, and more. Who knows what may later take a spot in our minds, what may later seem of interest, to the memory?
Be a Man.
Throw your wrappers down.
Show your disdain, even as you
eat the Something that is sweet.
Candy wrapper town is anarchy, chaos, and rebellion. I really did not think I wanted to stay there, I mean because of the landlord, but that’s how it happened and that is how I experienced… Candy wrapper town.