Today I felt connected.  I don’t mean connected in the pretentious, life force flowing through us all kind of way.  It was kind of like I was seeing just a little bit below the surface of the waters of people’s lives.  It was terrible.

The homeless man I walked past.  I felt his pain, his hunger.  I felt his anger as I walked past with two dozen eggs and couldn’t even bring myself to look at him.   Couldn’t bring myself to offer him some dignity.

The guy mopping the floor in the bank around the corner.  I felt his dreams.  His dreams of making it as an artist.  His paintbrush is now a mop, wiping clean the footprints of those who have more than he does.  Wondering how he’s going to pay the rent this week.

I looked up into the window of a second floor restaurant.  A couple was sitting eating.  They weren’t talking.  I felt his wanting to say how much he loved her.  And how much she wanted to hear it.  But the fear they both felt in the work that love is.  Her parents had split up.  His barely talked to each other.  Neither wants that to be them so they leave important words unsaid.

I saw my reflection.  The lies I speak when not speaking.  How fake the words seem to be that come out of my mouth.  How fake my actions are with everyone around me.  How I couldn’t think of a way to offer anyone else hope.  I couldn’t even find hope myself.

I felt terrible.