Sometimes I talk out loud in hopes that someone might hear me.

Sometimes I talk out loud in hopes that someone might hear me.

Sometimes people do, and they look at me. Sometimes they nod. Sometimes they stare through me as though I don’t actually exist. I guess I’m okay with that. I don’t like being a loner, but I often am. I’m just not patient enough to wait around for people to talk to me and to laugh with me.

I like to sit and watch people. You see them limp and wonder how they did got the limp. Their fancy shoes and crazy bags. Then, there’s the man that stops in the middle of the walkway to screw the lid tighter on his water bottle. Why in the middle of the walk way? And not to the side. I always go to the side. Does that tell you something about my personality and his?

Sometimes I yell at the sky. Maybe someone will hear. It’s why I talk out loud, too.

Life is so monotonous with people rushing by. Does anyone actually see anyone else? The Living so busy living that they forget the Others Living. The only time we seem to stop is for death, but even then, we keep going. Death stops for us. We don’t stop for him or her.

I think the cry of human beings is to be seen and heard. This is why we talk aloud.

 

This is why we find relief in screaming at the blue sky with white dimpled clouds.

 

It’s like some cosmic wonder will take notice of us.

But I mean, how often do you look at the stars? Do you? Actually look at them. I try to. I try to walk out of doors in the evening and look up. We forget to look up. We’re looking at our phones, at the signs, at our shoes, or just seeing through what’s ahead of us. Sometimes I get to a destination and I don’t remember how I got there.

Do you know the quote about how it’s more about the journey than it is about the destination? Yeah, well. What happens when you don’t remember the journey?

A journey takes time. I should know. Trudging through customs, dragging through security, and then trying to stay awake through a layover. The journey isn’t all that fun. It’s a lot of stuff that I don’t feel like doing. There are many times where I don’t feel like a person. Just another body to shuffle through the system. Is this part of the journey, too? Just being one in a billion?

I wouldn’t mind being at the destination right now. The destination has food, water, and a bed. I could even take a shower there. But here. I sit by strangers, stranded in thought. About me. About you. About humanity.

Maybe claiming to think about humanity is too broad of a statement. I write out these words, but does anyone actually care? I care. Maybe that’s not enough.

So two things from all of this. Life is about the journey, and people like to be seen.

I try to see people. When I walk into a bathroom and someone is cleaning it, I try to smile at them and thank them. Not many people stop and thank others.

I want to be known as a “thanker.” Maybe that’s silly.

 

What About You?

Does any of this resonate with you? What’s your theory on life and journey vs. destination?