I don't have much flowing through my mind this morning. I have tons hidden in the back, on shelves, waiting to be dusted off, until the time someone asks. It's funny. I wonder if the handful of people I encounter daily understand what it's like to be chained inside. Not physically, but mentally. Being surrounded by people who think they know, but don't even know all, but don't even know themselves, let alone me. I have outlets, but they are few. My most intelligent conversations, in-person, have been with a cat and a dog. I long to talk about great movies, philosophy, children, sports, literature, serious social issues. Anything but headlines about a virus most fear, but are too lazy to investigate on their own, simply trusting those that share will prove smarter than they. This silent disease has become our religion. Unexplained, unrepenting, and one we've somehow gather communally to show our faith, not in its word, but in its destruction. A fox shrieks and society's norms have me thinking it's a woman in danger. Dogs bark to alarm the perpetrator. I peer out the window like some onlooker expecting to see Kitty Genovese. We've all just become spectators of a world outside. The trip to the zoo has been turned, as the wild comes closer to the glass and peers into our caged existence.
Most people I know do not care about knowing the truth or facts, they only care about being the one who passes along information. I wonder if I could privately ask people why they use social media (honestly), what their reason would be. I don't think people without a sense of humor, realize how much fun the world can be. Even during the hard times. So many of us spend time thinking of mistakes and regrets, but if we really think about it, we've probably dodged more bullets than missed boats. You know when you sit by yourself reading, sipping some coffee or tea and you don't think about anything, but what you're doing? That!
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