I saw a white cross along the highway while driving on a lone road trip yesterday. It’s safe to assume an unexpected and premature death from a car accident happened at that very spot.
Something came over me from my chest and expressed itself through my eyes.
Then my thoughts started to focus… I came to a realization that I was feeling strong sadness because I was grieving for the life that had been lost, even though I did not know them.
For whatever reason, I felt like I lost one of my own. Bless that person who shared their time on Earth with me, I wish the best for the family and friends left behind.
Then… because I think too much…
I thought of war. And then people acting ridiculous because someone is a different color, or isn’t your sex, or has sex with someone you don’t agree with, or just watch the news and see the other forms of hate large swaths of people are giving in to.
I began to feel embarrassed.
How can we do this to one another when we bitch, moan and complain when others do it to us?
I could be crazy, it wouldn’t surprise me, but that behavior is fucking insanity.
I might be oversimplifying, but a strong majority of people only start to really care, at least to the point of activism, about drunk driving when someone close to them gets killed by a drunk driver. People advocate for no smoking only when they find out they have lung cancer from smoking. People become vegetarians only when they witness the slaughtering of animals, even though they knew it was happening all along.
It’s both humorous and not.
Humorous because of the ironic behavior no one seems to notice. Not because of the actual suffering they have to go through for these things to become real.
Just being told is not enough for most people to care, let alone take action, especially if it’s in some far away country they’ll never have to go to anyway. Or the caring fades quickly when something more interesting happens.
After all, there are too many things to worry and care about; and there is, that’s not sarcasm.
But that isn’t a personal pass to live within the bounds of ignorant bliss.
Only after being touched by the true existence of real suffering did they decide to make a change.
Maybe it is me that’s crazy. I’m not though, just rare. Not many like me. And sometimes it sucks because it’s hard to find others like me so I feel alone a lot of the time, but that’s ok.
Most people are of the rare kind in their own way.
People need to revel in their differences, not feel condemned by a society of good liars hiding in plain sight.