i felt disconnected all day. distant. disjointed. another bee in the hive. i don’t know why.
when i stepped outside getting off work, it was grey, breezy, devoid of sunshine.
the bass in my ears moved me. driving the beat of my heart. walking my feet.
the sun slowly came out, mixed bittersweet with the clouds.
and then you showed up. black and white across the street.
i kept my head down as you walked by, careful not to ruin that perfect image in my head. it was enough to keep me going. to make me smile when the most i could feel all day was neutral.
i love you but i don’t know you.
You are so poetic Jeff!
Thanks Pearl. Nice to hear from a published author and linguist. :)
Instances like that always spin me off into imaginative and whimsical thoughts for the rest of the day.
You know, I didn’t feel like writing that day until that moment happened. It felt so great that I was compelled to capture it as best I could.
I’ve often thought, what if when we die, we could suddenly get a rush of all the moments in our lives we didn’t know about that concerned us.… that suddenly you could see your whole life from a distance above yourself and hear all the thoughts your loved ones and even strangers spoke in their heads about you — things that would surprise you and you never knew. Some of it would be flotsam, some of it painful, and some of it wonderous and unexpected. What would you have done, how would your life have changed, if you had heard those thoughts during your life?
I’ve thought so many thoughts like yours and wondered if they needed to hear them, sad they never would know they changed me. Wondered what changes I’d have made if I’d heard more than I did.
An interesting idea.
Personally, I think it would be better not knowing. There’s only so much we can do. I think it would be like going to a psychic and finding out when you’re going to die. We’d change our lives to live to the fullest until that day, and it would seem very unnatural to me.
Better not to know, I’d say.