Everyone has a story to tell

My inspiration ...

Pain

what keeps me moving ...

heartache

That coupled and contrasted with

peace and solace,

an aim of all people

What are our walls that we raise before others that bar us from others, that bar us from actually letting ourselves BE? The Fear, the Pain, Heartache, it's too risky if we are the only ones doing so- and if we perceive that we're the only one's giving, taking this chance to vocalize who were are. We're afraid of becoming lone, the only one who has taken the risk of engaging on such a venture and jeopard exposure ... to be alone ... yet, we know very well that our wall will cause us to stagnate, and cause more harm than in opening ... and most of us have these walls, each similar in nature, standing very firm.

I am beginning to think that 'connection' is impossible; however, this is only the beginning of my experiment.

"Stand ground soldier!", a voice exhorts within me. In a truth, I have no other way to go save for the path that I have embarked on already. Not for ego because I can stop any time I wish, especially if it seems hazardous ... however, there really seems to be nothing left for me to return to and no one to move forward with.

Giving up on life and interaction? No, this isn't the case. Within my experiment I find that people are satisfied with just very minimal, superficial interaction, and as long as you have a smile on your face, no one really perceives anything more than what they see in their own mind's world. No doubt, my experiment is confirming this about people ... and even though I am positive that people can break beyond this subjective self-world view, people don't utilize their skills of considerateness or maybe they just don't have it at all to activate.

For example, just this morning on the way to work at some 4-ish a.m., whilst leaving the train station, I saw a homeless person sitting at the bottom of the stairs of the very entrance to the subway! No, not inside parts of the subway station entrance, but at the bottom of the entrance stairs where the average person begins to tighten the grip of their jackets to hopefully shield their body from the imposing cold! And this person, doing their best to not expose any part of themselves to the cold, shivering, now very lethargically as the cold confidently slows our blood's flow every time he wishes to dance with us for one more ice-gripping song of its wind ... and O' have I experienced his insistence on 'just one more song'. It pained me to see this person there as I thought to myself, "If only I had my business running I would give this person a job" ... and it's only now that I realized that this person may have ultimately been thinking this - to be given a chance ... who knows. However, I even wish I had food on me, or a few extra $$ to spare, or get him a hot chocolate ... even speak with him/her, to hear, listen to his/her story ... everyone has one to tell, and everyone wants to share it ... but everyone has their wall which makes them fear. It's what kept me from telling his soul that I recognize him and just talking to him even without silver or gold or any present other than a soul to soul conversation

At the park, on the way home, I saw a black cat, huddled in a corner, as if trying to keep itself warm. At first I thought, when passing it, 'please don't run, I want to see you.", then, seeing it appear so sad, with droopy eyes and wet tear rings. I wished I had food for it, I wish I could listen to this cat's story... which, in fact, now thinking about it, I should have tried, with both the homeless person and the cat ... I myself suffer from being able to be, to let go - because I have yet to actually do it.

I wonder to myself, what if there was a sage, most beautiful of all human beings to ever walk this earth who had undergone mortifying experiences, who was sequestered, beaten, maligned and mangled beyond recognition? Family wouldn't be able to identify them; their hands too broken to write anymore from constant agony of pain - their voice left them long ago from the excruciating cries which tried incessantly to match their pain; their eyes, withered eyes which can no longer cast forth the light of their soul because their salty tears dried them up ... Once a most perfect of human beings, in all arts and sciences, in all beauties and ethics, now unable to write, speak, or cast their feeling through their eyes ... shall we, the rest of us consider that person no one to speak to? Should we not give them the honor of telling their story somehow? Can we actively establish communication with such a person? See what they see deep within their core!?

This is the state of all of us deep within ...

As everyone wants to just have a bite to eat

there are those that just think about themselves and depriving others whether directly or indirectly.

As everyone only wants to have a place to sleep

there are those that just think about themselves and depriving others whether directly or indirectly.

As everyone wants to feel worth, wants to feel loved, needed, held, cared for... we are the others who think about ourselves ...

This is the state of all of us deep within ...

Everyone has a story to tell, and we aren't even listening to our own