People. Oh people. People are everything. People put on a show. People say the wrong things with good intentions and the right things with no feeling. People care. People want to be the best version of their own self, but maybe have forgotten how or maybe the person who was shining that light on them went off to sea or maybe it's just too much work.
People have joy that can visibly radiate. People suffer. People don't like to talk about it.
People create and destroy and copy. Oh, do people copy. People are afraid and muddied up and try on lots of hats, hiding from their own beautiful bones. Bones and baggage. Baggage that is maybe more like a apron lined with tiny pockets, mistakes and heartbreak tucked neatly into them. Other people can't see it, but it's there. And it changes everything. It is what makes people people.
You are people.
I am people too.
And I don't envy any of us and I'm so glad we are all here.
|photo via blauwe ballon|
This isn't at all what I sat down to write about. I wonder why my fingers typed it.