I wiped the semi-frozen goop that clang to my upper lip. It's cold, throat wrenching, ball clinging cold. My chapped lips part and take in a thick lump of Sin city air.
        Welcome to the city of fear, welcome to the city of proud sinners, healing killers and honorable thieves. Welcome to the city of truthful deceit. I thought of my crew, no not my crew. They're my family, my brothers and sisters. I thought of them dreaming the chilled nights away in an old theater. I thought of thick blankets and coats covering warm bodies.
             My own body shivered as the icy wind ravaged through my long sleeved shirt. I can't complain though. I left my coat behind to help keep everyone warm. My eyes ran over my pale shivering hands. No gloves tonight. Gloves don't make good fists; My pocket carries the money for groceries. A whole $36.32. A small amount to most, but a gold mine to me. $36.32 that I would lay down my life for.
      My brown eyes fight to gaze through the cloud white wind gusts and my own shaggy black hair doesn't help. I hate my hair in the wintertime. It has more rats in it than the basement of the theater. Yet, I suppose warmth is more important than style. Besides, my hair offers my family a hat instead of me.
   I turn the corner. The bright pink neon lights of the "convenience" store illuminate a greasy old homeless man.  
          "What are you doing Old Man? It's nearly zero degrees out" I grumble to myself. As I got closer, I realized he was holding a sign. The text was big and bold, the words made me want to break the Old Man's knee cap.
                                         Life is beautiful.
How dare he say that? What was there that was so "beautiful" in life. He obviously doesn't have it very well and neither do I. Of course, I appreciate that I am alive, but it's not beautiful. I glare at him as I enter the store.
   After a few moments my mind returned to my sleeping family, while I began to to browse for food. The clerk watched me with a careful eye, and he had every right to. Though I had the money to buy the groceries, I would gladly steal an extra three loaves of bread from an unwatchful eye, If it meant feeding my family for an extra few days. As I reached for the bread, I stopped dead. Someone was behind me. Close, too close for comfort. The hair on the back of my neck bolted on end. I let the survival instinct take over. Almost instantly I had seized my attacker by the throat. It was the Old Man again. I let go without question, but didn't apologize. He was a fool for sneaking up on me like that, people die in this city for doing that.
        The old man didn't run, hell he didn't even flinch. He must be stupid, first he stands out in the cold promoting some false cliched message, now he stands smiling at the same person who seized him by his mangy throat.
  Deep caverns outlined the sides of his squinty eyes. I felt myself envying his gaze. It held, no poverty, no anger, no starvation, no desire to steal or harm anyone. How did he survive here? I have never liked to harm anyone, but I have always done what I have to. His ragged beard and clothing seemed to fit another person. As if someone had painted poverty on a normal person. His hair was gray and long, moping on his shoulders. He was very thin, we all were. Though his brown trench coat hid most of his body frame. Blood, dirt, and oil had found it's home. Nestled in miscellaneous cloth beds on the sleeves of his winter armor. His shoes only disgraced him more. These things didn't size up to his gaze, how could someone beam and be so happy when he has holes in his clothes. I waited patiently for him to speak.
   "You are a selfless young man, but I sense that something troubles you....do you not like my message?" His voice was raspy and his tone made him seem ancient.
         It takes a lot to surprise me, always has. When the The Old Man spoke, I was stunned. I had barley even looked at him for a few moments and he was seeing right through me. Was he truly so wise that he could read a person's soul simply by gazing at them? I still did not speak, so he continued.
       "You're a born leader, I can see it. It is apparent in the way you present yourself. Even in the way you stand, I sense a feeling of protection when I see you walk, normally I would see it as just another careless youth watching out for only himself, but your eyes hold compassion. It's easy to see that you care for others"
          The Old Man already knew about me more than myself. I decided to challenge him.
"Hell no, no way old man. I don't care who lives and who dies as long as I survive" I had to choke out the words. It was almost impossible to fake it, I couldn't imagine actually leaving my crew.
         An amused stare hit me from The Old Man's eyes. "Well hot shot If this is so, then tell me. Where are your gloves and your jacket? Surely no on on their own would travel like you are. Its a death wish" Busted. "You need not lie to me young one, I seek no food or shelter only to speak with you. His eyes, never left mine and he extended a quivering hand.
   I didn't know what to think. The first rule of living on the streets is never trust anyone but your own. Someone who wants to survive must only look out for themselves and maybe the ones they love. They are supposed to ignore everyone else. Despite this, I firmly shook his hand. His skin was wrinkled but rough like a leather hide.
                "Walk with me son" The Old Man began to walk down the aisle of the store like it were some vast forest. I followed slowly, feeling weird like I was in middle school again.
   "Why do you dislike my message?" His tone did not change. He sounded so old, so wise as though her were one of the first to walk the earth. I paused for a moment before answering.
"I just feel that....It's hopeless here you know? There is now way out. Day after day I feel as though I am just trying to survive while others enjoy luxury. I can never stop to enjoy life, because I am always just trying to get by. How can life be beautiful when I have nothing but rags and scraps?" I paused again. "Are you mad?" I asked. I still to this day, have no clue why I didn't want to disappoint The Old Man. I hadn't had a father in several years and didn't want to loose the closest thing I had since.
     The Old Man chuckled. "No I am not angry. People who become angry when someone doesn't agree with their opinion are the same people who are ignorant to the opinions of others." His face grew serious. "Listen to me....and listen closely. Life is beautiful my son, look on as you go home tonight. Look past poverty driven streets, look past the starving, look past the corrupt, look past politicians who sit in their chairs trying to make more money. Look past the hardships that your family goes through and appreciate that you have a family. People forget that we don't own the earth, the earth owns us, people forget that family is more important than any material. It is not life itself that is bad, but it is the evil within. People try to kill the evils of the world with more evil. Yet, they forget that evil is a natural force, we must accept it but not condone it. Do anything in our power to stop it, but not become "The lesser of two evils". This world needs balance and without evil being born, good can never come to rise. The beauty of the world is all around you, strive to return that beauty to society. Industry has taken over the natural earth. The two forces can live in peace, but it is laziness, money and a lack of compassion that keeps it from doing so. Strive for change, strive for revolution, strive for the return or morale and reason into the world. Do not be like those men and women who dress in black robes and chain preaching anarchy. The world needs a government, but do not be like to common business man and just silence yourself to conform to what is happening because you are afraid. That is it, my boy! Do you see? It is the fear! It must be from the eyes of poverty that things will change. Simply because, we are the victims of the evil of the world. More than most. Do this boy! Do not wish, do not pray, act! Look to nature, and lead from their example. Understand balance and let society become what it should. A decent world, one where everyone is truly treated equally, one where beauty is seen under the skin, one where we can all live with nature and the government. Not lost in the bloodshed of currency and trade. Let the hogs of the table cloth finally listen to the people. Not strive for profit. Force it so that when they open their pathetic lying, mud ridden mouths they will have nothing to say. And THAT is when the world will listen. That is when we know it is time. Time to tell them to their face, To be honest and being to worry for the sake of all people".
The Old Man finished his last word and walked away swiftly and quietly. I followed suit, but he was gone.
         I finished shopping, my head heavy in thought. I didn't know what to make of it. As I paid the cashier and said goodnight I stepped out into the night. The once roaring wind now kissed my skin. I let out a sigh, taking in ever ounce of the moon and stars. Just before leaving I noticed the same cardboard piece that I had looked at, not so long ago in disgust. I lifted it slowly my eyes tracing over the soaked cardboard. The message was both ran and faded, bu there was no doubt. It was still there. I left the sign where it was, hoping someone may read the words and learn what I had on this night. I slowly moved for home.