Some days a clear thought sails in and docks on this page.
You know what I mean. Transparent see-through thoughts – you’d expect they’d be the rage, but instead, everyone’s raging about lies, gloving-up and pointing fingers.
Daily discourse, grown too hostile for anyone’s good – sensorially numbed to what we once believed horrid or unfair. We’re desensitized and demoralized too. Not politics and villains, not wars or terrorism – it’s about lies vs. alternative facts and fake news. We can’t know who to trust, and it would be too hard to squeeze an unvarnished fact into that cacophony.
When common sense was more common, a clear thought on a clear day’s path to truth-telling – I yearn for those days. Not every day, but I yearn for that today.
We inhabit global fear and distrust bubbles – to mask, or not to mask; to trust a politician or not to trust them. To take any advice calls into question the quality of the advice and the party providing that guidance. It’s a slurry of ideas soup washing over us daily, too frequently from imbecilic sources.
Everyone has the right to their opinion, but not everyone’s opinion is right.
I long for the possible, the impossible, the fantastic, the dream – the big idea, the big challenge, and the big-deal of it all. Moonshots and moonbeams, sultry summer nights, and brilliant crisp, winter afternoons – I yearn for innocence. I knew it once. You did too. We all did.
I prefer a community of joy, a society of kindness, and my media chock full of facts, reporters, and fact-checking. I prefer a culture of truth. We had that, didn’t we?
It’s probably healthiest to not trust anything we hear, but then what should we swallow?
I’m not tired, but I’m wary, and more than I’m wary, I’m weary of it all too …