November 4, 2009

I’ve been listening to Bob Marley all day. There’s something exceptionally beautiful in the simplicity of his words, and of the seriousness of his message. Sometimes I wish I loved more than I do. Sometimes I wish I could just hug a stranger or two because I think people need hugs a lot more often than they are willing to admit. I wish I was a child. Children understand things. They speak the language of kindness fluently. The small boy on the bus understood that. This is why he smiled and waved goodbye to the man that kept him from losing his balance when the driver stopped short at a light. Children understand a lot more than we are willing to admit. I don’t understand why everyone is so afraid to admit things. Why the essence of being human is slowly becoming a taboo. I don’t understand much, but I think about a whole lot. I get tired of thinking. Sometimes in my sleep I can hear my thoughts. They are the background music to my dreams. They are alive inside of me. They are just like children. Sometimes I think they, too, understand much more than I give them credit for. I wonder if they will make it in this world. I wonder if I will make it in this world. Most of the time I can feel death breathing down my neck; but then there are days where Bob Marley is on replay and I remember that there is such a thing as love. On these days I feel at peace. On these days I feel like a child with a plethora of knowledge that I, myself, don’t quite understand. One day I might, but for now my belly is filled with love, and for now that is just enough for me to make it to tomorrow.