• "I've been miserable for so many years because I thought it was the only way to be."

    So what if the world is corrupt, cruel, and ignorant? The misrepresentation of our reality severely infects our minds more so than Humans pollute the Earth. In your eyes, it is your world, nobody else's. Nobody could ever tell you what you are feeling, they may be empathetic towards your situation and even might be able to walk a mile in your shoes, but you are unique in that you are the only one who could truly understand your thoughts. How easy it is, to say you understand somebody's pain. How easy it is, to say a word of encouragement in spite of all the negativity showering you from the mouths of the oppressed. How easy it is, to live a lie we all want to believe.

    It is difficult to listen, to stay in silence whilst trying to understand and analyze. Thoughts loaded onto the tip of your tongue cocked and aimed down the sights, ready to fire spoken words. Only to realize your words have wounded the oppressed, or worse, killed their openness to speak out any issue plaguing their minds. It's sad to see how much we have failed to remember our words have power, and how easy it is to say the first thought that comes to mind. How easy it is, to return hate for hate. How easy it is, to be the fool who needs to say something.

    Pacing back and forth like a woodpecker pecking a tree. Hands holding each other like water to a shoreline, vigorously rubbing off skin to expose muscle and bone. Panic settling faster than Europeans to the new world. With so little faith in our fellow Human to hold on to a secret, to go through with a promise. How can we communicate effectively when understanding what is being said is less important than finding a somewhat appropriate response to negate any form of awkward silence? The silence is deafening, is that why everyone wears earbuds or headphones? How easy it is, to forget the music of life. How easy it is, to ignore the cries as music is the only thing we hear?

    How easy it is, to care. How easy it is, to be organic; in the sense of being yourself. 'Course it's easy to say rather than do, but when all is said and done, more will always be said, than what is actually done. Can we not enjoy the silence together? Our worlds are not so different, even when solely focusing on differences, we find similarities hidden in plain sight. Most might say they have nothing to hide, yet they tear away pages from the story that is their life. I'm an open book, I may not have an index or a pretty cover, hell, even a strong or accurate synopsis of what is to be expected. My book is as simple as asking, and reading. How difficult it is, to understand, how easy it is to hear somebody in silence. 

    We all get anxious, even thinking about talking to some random person makes my heart beat faster than a hummingbird's. Is it anxiety? Or mayhaps excitement? We give meaning to the pressures of life, so why not change the meaning to better understand somebody else's world?