lost in america

i think all our hearts hurt a little, at least, all of the time. at least, i like to think so. it makes us more human. it makes us more understanding. and it doesn't make us any less lovely. i think it's always been this way. i mean, you rarely see a smiling statue or work of art. we, as humans, have perfected only the art of making do. any one person can only hold so much in their hands. i guess our insides are on reserve for what we're not capable of dealing with or confronting. what's not good to us now. and it wells up, makes space and takes up residency. i don't think it even makes us less happy. i think it's just what we're accustomed to, because it's always been that way.

i think what we choose to do with it is what makes us unhappy. we can use it to be better. to be stronger. to love harder, longer, more. or it can drive us crazy. we can let it destroy everything good that isn't hurting.

we all have histories; histories so evident on our skin. you just have to choose to look for them. to see them. to see what makes us us. it's the dark and dank alleyways that make us individuals. we have to allow ourselves our own histories, and we cannot deny the histories of those around us. just because you can't see something doesn't mean it isn't there; doesn't mean you can pretend it's not. we spend so much time focusing on how life affects us; it's easy to forget everybody else.

i... i don't quite know how to make do where i am, in the wake of what i've just experienced. when you are so brazenly faced with how life affects others, it becomes impossible to forget everybody else. it gets harder to see yourself. it gets harder to live in a world full of advertisements and self-absorption and mountains out of mole hills and negativity. it becomes more and more evident how so many americans thrive on negativity. as though, perhaps, they can create chaos and war and problems so that they can avoid the hurt in their own hearts.

it gets harder when you feel so surrounded by ingratitude. when you feel lost in space, like an animal in the streets, trying to make do in a world you don't understand. in a world that doesn't feel like it's yours.

i returned. and the hurt in my heart had changed. i've been so hypnotized by a pair of eyes and a smile i can never do justice. a smile over a bag of food out in the street, alone on the dirty sidewalk, with no parents or clothes or chances or choices. and now i look around and can barely see a smile for all the houses and menus and waste and work and worship and words. and it just... breaks my heart a little.

i think all our hearts hurt a little, at least, all of the time. i just wish it wasn't so easy to forget everybody else.

i feel so lost, back in america.