I feel like I’m in a movie scene, everything is zooming by in blurred motion. The white noise and oscillation of the world continue without me. I stand still and hope for the world to slow.
Slow down, look at me.
If only I could reach out and touch the steady stream of people hurrying by, but they whip passed like an opaque babbling brook. If I could touch them, maybe they would recognize the smile I feign. The sadness in my heart.
No one notices me.
The world is racing, harmonious to a stream rushing around rocks. The water similar to humanity is indifferent and unaware that my skin senses the sting of the icy water, analogous to the listless eyes passing me on the street. All the hate causes sadness to pool in my soulful baby blues. I pretend to understand a world gone mad.
Violence bleeds out of the sidewalks and drips into the streets.
Anger and hatred a part of a daily stroll to the corner store.
I hear horns blasting, fury raging. I view a man screeching his Jaguar tires. Leaving rubber melted on the asphalt, solely because a gray-haired woman moved through the cross walk too slowly. Her head heavy as she tries desperately to keep up, to move along.
My heart sinks, I touch my hand to my chest. Too slow. Too fast. Not enough. Too much. Never good enough.
A woman strikes my shoulder while peering at her phone. Merely a bump in her busy world, I go unnoticed. I apologize for her indiscretion and in return am met with apprehension. A second taken from her connected world missed perhaps by the sounds of my apology. She seems bothered by my humanity.
A man in the grocery store, shouts at the cashier over twelve cents. The corporate thieves are stealing his pay cheque. I bleed positive thoughts and wonder if twelve cents may affect his family, so in turn, I hand him a quarter. Again, met with anger. Told it is not my business. My heart hurts. I have indeed been in need of a quarter.
Busy fake happiness. We’ve become a world of disconnect. Attached to one another through screens, and phones. Not touch. We are eating each other’s hearts and spitting out souls. Our legacy, a land-fill of anger and devastation. We deal in hateful energy and impassioned words. Forgetting where we came from, who we are. How to love.
We’ve let social media become a standard by which we gauge our self-worth. We disregard human touch for indolent words on our Facebook walls.
We pass human beings on the street and forget to smile. We’ve lost touch with kindness, and it scares the hell out of me. Money and busy lives have taken over our need to connect. To feel. Compassion is a lost emotion. Succumbed to the fight over who is wrong and who is right. Right now, when we need it the most.
It needs to end.
I desire to love and I ache for human touch. I dream of a day when we see humanity for what it is worth. A day when the boredom of life hasn’t taken away our passion for breathing in the air in which we should be grateful for. The hope for a better tomorrow.
My heart wants to hide; I feel it pump the blood of despair. My once free-bird passion, now aches to stay in its cage. Safe from hate. Safe from the cold ruin of humanity.
I want to believe we all simply need to slow down, let our hearts beat as one. The only race we need to win, is the human one.
Stop and look into my eyes, see me, please just see me.
Blue twinkles now sparked with fear.
Perhaps if we humans took the time to notice one another, there would be less hate. More love.
The world is moving so fast. In a direction, I’m not ready to take my children.
Each time I hear of another atrocity, the cold isolation of a broken world begins to encircle my heart. I don’t want to live in a world that has become shards of glass, scoring at my core. WE have the ability to change; that is the why humanity is great.
I’m tired of blurred faces, blurred cars, a blurred life.
I feel a whisper on my cheek, but it moves so quickly I am not sure I am alive.
Are any of us really living?