I’m Talking About The Moment When
We glimpse behind the curtain of someone else’s painted performance and realize that everyone might actually be as misshapen and masked as we know ourselves to be;
I see their faces and feel a sneaking guilt, for the resentment I’ve felt towards the lives of those seemingly without pain, only to realize that their suffering is hidden just like mine, like ours, and I wasn’t even looking for it;
I ignore people more than I should, but I try to pry my eyes open, and I watch them in airports, on planes; Who are you, What have you done, What do you regret; You can see it in some people’s eyes.
It is an overwhelming task, to attempt to grasp the depth of a single human being, let alone seven billion and
Perhaps that is why we remain ignorant; if every person held on to the collective human consciousness,
the world would be a schizophrenic demon.
