I walk the streets and the world has emerged from the quiet.
Cars whiz by radio blasting as if nothing has been permanently altered.
Not one single thing.
As if our world and way of living haven’t been shook.
Rocked to the core.
I learned over a year that most people are blind, selfish, and missed the cosmic opportunity for growth.
The missed opportunity for change, of the human collective.
Nope, they’d rather get back to work, buy more shit they don’t need, forget, and get on with it. On with what? Time never stopped. What exactly are you running towards, I ask myself.
I quite liked the quiet beauty of solitude and being cocooned in nature.
I feel more isolated in a crowd now, than I ever did.
The masks have come off for most of us, and the busy, superficial rat race resumes.
You can’t hide ugly, it lives behind the eyes and on the tongue, and inside the deepest corners of the soul.
My grief is not personal, it’s purposeful and planet-full.
I hope I have emerged more thoughtful, aware, and empathetic.
I think I’ll stay here, in my quiet bubble stripping myself bare of all the layers and layers.
There is beauty in simplicity and radical acceptance, and I’m ok with that.
It hurts less to breathe when there is more air.