We Are Here
It is possible to get comfortable
in your writing and forget why you write or maybe find solace in your words and
forget how to feel. There will be days we are unable to determine which is
better or if both instances make us worse. Chaos reveals our vulnerability, can
make us human even when we think this arting has made us immortal. Our
mortality exposes its hands every day clawing at our emotions, leaking out of
the pores of our skin. We are mere mortals but we are still here.
I think I was eight years old, when
my mother asked me the question all parents or parent ask each of us once in
our lives. I can’t recall if my answer was my truth or what I thought she
wanted to hear. Her question was “if all your friends ran and jumped off the
cliff would you jump too? I replied no. My question to you is: do you remember
your answer? It would seem we’ve arrived at the edge of the cliff. No matter
how imaginary or proverbial the ledge is, we are standing inches from falling
wondering if we should jump.
Each and every day we log on whatever
devices are at our disposal to see what’s new. We are constantly checking our
media pages to discover what we missed while in slumber. Forever anxious to determine
in this new day, what is trending. If there are comments awakened in our
fingers to apply to an errant post, news story, video or unfunny joke. Hiding
behind locked doors makes it easier to type words we would never utter in
public. Pain, anger, hatred and malice are easy to distribute while hiding
behind the screens or windows of our choice. We have yet to determine if what
we consider new is really new or old or the continuation of the usual. We are
trapped in tradition, churning little white lies hoping they will morph into
truth.
I am left believing as we read all
this hate on a daily basis we’ve become numb to its effects on our mental
stability. I wonder if those paying more attention to devices notice life still
needs their help to be considered living. When technology finally meets the
demand of the people and we are able to crawl inside our tablets, cell phones
and laptops will this ball lose its occupants? What number of mouth breathers
will remain to aid in its rotation? We are here and constantly act as though we
are not, like all the humans needing help doesn’t matter. Like these schools
aren’t closing down, like our responsibility doesn’t span beyond the bloodline
of family, shouldn’t overlap the barriers of color. We are here and it should
matter to the we and not just me.
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