A lot of snow is not required for lives to be endangered. Temperatures keep us huddled next to anything or anyone who is warm. Apologies were necessary as staples ordered while the sun was shining had to be delivered in negative conditions. Questions linger this morning with the possibility that buses will not deliver the kids to school on time.
While sitting in a waiting room, my coat and hat still in place, a man approached, distracted by my appearance. Standing before me, he said, “I just wanted to get a good look at you.” He took a seat nearby and continued. “Your look, it’s … what’s the word… ‘legendary?’ No, more like… ‘iconic.’ That’s it, you’re totally iconic.” A nurse called his name as I questioned the man’s mental condition. What are the motives behind compliments to strangers? Politics have taught us to question the subtext of the most simple and generous statements. Kind words are approached with suspicion. Our level of trust in fellow humans grows thin.
Actions speak volumes above words. Where one goes, what one does, shows more than character. What is one’s purpose? What motivates a soul to put their interests above others? Words can be a distraction. Actions tell no lies. Threats of what one might do are empty. Look instead at the steps they take, the people they hold close, and the rules they break. Do not stand so close as to become a victim of the shrapnel from other people’s lives.
Still, the words we choose are a reflection of our society. ‘Brain rot’ has become something more than a medical issue. Such language threatens to become a tool of racism. Vocabularies such as demure, slop, dynamic pricing, romantasy, and lore shape the context of who we are, the values we hold, and how one perceives their world. I question whether we weigh the weight of our words before we speak. Even when we fling terms and threats around with no regard, they can still cause damage when they land.
So many thoughts are filling my brain, yet few are worth the pain of typing. Time passes. Whether the page is made of paper or pixels, I still stare at the blankness and question how to fill it. Sometimes life is the same. How one chooses to fill the blank pages of their lives reveals their reality and the flaws of their mortality.
Sitting on my desk is a book I’ve yet to start that ultimately deals with the reality of the author’s death. I pick it up, open the cover, and then return it to the place on my desk from where it beckons to be read. Do I want to open myself to this conversation? Will pondering mortality shape my future reality?
There are cats demanding petting. There are meds waiting to be taken. There are naps hoping to be embraced. I do not care if the snow melts. I am here. I am warm. I do not long to wander.
A lot of snow is not required for lives to be endangered. Temperatures keep us huddled next to anything or anyone who is warm. Apologies were necessary as staples ordered while the sun was shining had to be delivered in negative conditions. Questions linger this morning with the possibility that buses will not deliver the kids to school on time.
While sitting in a waiting room, my coat and hat still in place, a man approached, distracted by my appearance. Standing before me, he said, “I just wanted to get a good look at you.” He took a seat nearby and continued. “Your look, it’s … what’s the word… ‘legendary?’ No, more like… ‘iconic.’ That’s it, you’re totally iconic.” A nurse called his name as I questioned the man’s mental condition. What are the motives behind compliments to strangers? Politics have taught us to question the subtext of the most simple and generous statements. Kind words are approached with suspicion. Our level of trust in fellow humans grows thin.
Actions speak volumes above words. Where one goes, what one does, shows more than character. What is one’s purpose? What motivates a soul to put their interests above others? Words can be a distraction. Actions tell no lies. Threats of what one might do are empty. Look instead at the steps they take, the people they hold close, and the rules they break. Do not stand so close as to become a victim of the shrapnel from other people’s lives.
Still, the words we choose are a reflection of our society. ‘Brain rot’ has become something more than a medical issue. Such language threatens to become a tool of racism. Vocabularies such as demure, slop, dynamic pricing, romantasy, and lore shape the context of who we are, the values we hold, and how one perceives their world. I question whether we weigh the weight of our words before we speak. Even when we fling terms and threats around with no regard, they can still cause damage when they land.
So many thoughts are filling my brain, yet few are worth the pain of typing. Time passes. Whether the page is made of paper or pixels, I still stare at the blankness and question how to fill it. Sometimes life is the same. How one chooses to fill the blank pages of their lives reveals their reality and the flaws of their mortality.
Sitting on my desk is a book I’ve yet to start that ultimately deals with the reality of the author’s death. I pick it up, open the cover, and then return it to the place on my desk from where it beckons to be read. Do I want to open myself to this conversation? Will pondering mortality shape my future reality?
There are cats demanding petting. There are meds waiting to be taken. There are naps hoping to be embraced. I do not care if the snow melts. I am here. I am warm. I do not long to wander.
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