Tea well Shared

its 1:30 am . i make my way up kingston through the throngs of people, pushing my way to the end of the block.
clouds of ciggarette smoke wafting in the air. music vibrating in my ears. smells of israeli shampoo and french perfume cl0g my throat. feeling pushed around, unable to move or breath. there's always a constant fear of being sprayed with some can of string confetti by some kid on rollerblades.
i f i look carefully over the jam packed railing, i might get a glimpse of some men dancing. The live band playing. flags waving. as i keep crawling my way up to Crown street i might meet my freinds. bump into some people i couldnt care less about.
choked from being buried under a mass mob of humans, and at m y g-d granted height, stuffed in armpits, i just long to get out. The other side. The Heart of the Town. The new hangout in a once old community. come closer. To what?
i dunno. fresh air to unclog my longs.
WHEW!
i've hit the corner of Crown. i can breath. rid myself of this congestion.
But alas! its not meant to be. instead, my head is clouded. my neshama is choked. inward i am crying out from the depths to g-d to help me just pass throught this mess. i still cant breath. my ears no longer hear music. instead they hear the sound of boys and girls laughing, sputtered cursing. The scene is in a smoking haze of ciggarette ash. people clashing, runing, chasing. After what? who knows? as far as i can see they are chasing after a mirage. i long to hide. but i cant. i need to push my self through this and run away.
~~~~
whatever happened to Simchas Beis Hashoeva, that time of joy and happiness?
I, for one, am depressed. This is not what i call happiness. This is what i call negligence. This is what i call dreariness. This is what i call disgust. Must i walk in my own streets to witness everything i stand against in its wake?

and Hence.
I call.
From the depths.
Let every one of these boys and girls find his inner peace, be true to herself. Learn to live, to love. To stop chasing after another's dream and to create for himself his own.

i finnally pass The Mob. They're still stuck in it.