Today I heard a conversation. A conversation I was definitely not suppose to hear. She was crying only a few feet away from me. There's was an argument occurring about how he doesn't get it and she's only trying. There's more tears. She's depressed. He doesn't care. She's tired. He's annoyed (she says). And there are more tears. I'm mortified that I'm even in the same vicinity as this conversation and I leave. I leave, supporting the tiny idea of privacy.
Funny thing: I left. She stayed. I'm going to argue with that.
How is it that we have become oblivious to our surroundings? Most times it's laughable but in my recent occasion it is not. Semesters ago, I had a creative writing professor ask us to eavesdrop. The assignment was to write down what we heard-snippets. And in class we would share our top ten. I don't know if was just SDSU-probably not-but this was too easy. If you sit at a public bench and just sit there, you don't even have to pretend to not be writing-people won't see you. It's disturbing and utterly fascinating!
We see what we want to see. It's an old cliche. But cliches are based on brutal honesty. I heard girls taking about cheating, sex, clothes, sluts, friends, friday night, and weight. Personal conversations were being held, again, only a few feet away from me. We are walking bubbles.
We prioritize our bubble and only allow what we want to be inside of it. It's our bubble-duh. But is there any hope out there for a pop? Are we afraid to think of the "outsiders?" I don't think so. We are faithful in the power of the bubble. And the bubble, is naturally, sound-proof. How convenient!
Perhaps the bubble is an explanation for our generation's lack thereof. Or perhaps, and I hope, perhaps the bubble is just necessary to make awareness-apparent. Maybe we won't appreciate our space until it's invaded. But I'm not talking about invasion that's all bad and hostile. I'm talking about invasion that can be good-invigorating. We are a global community with an immensely diverse collection of cultures and foods and mannerisms.
We kiss on one cheek or both cheeks. We bow. Eat with our hands. Eat with tables and chairs. We drape ourselves in colors, furs, or eco-friendly threads. We write. We blog. We recite and we equate. We fight. We bomb. We rape. We murder. We oppress. We are the best-no WE are the best. We tug and we break. We all make mistakes. Pop. Pop. Pop.
There was a part of me that wanted to hold the girl on the phone crying to her insensitive boyfriend and just hug her. Hug and ssh her that he's not everything. She has herself and she should appreciate the beauty of self. I wanted to smooth out her hair out of her wet face and dry her up. Tell her to finish her finals and finish this surrender to sadness.
I am a deeply compassionate person. My bubble is constantly pop with people I don't even know because I allow it. It's thin-the bubble. It's people-I'm a sucker for them! Dios Mio.
This is a personal blog and I'm not sure why. This will happen from time-to-time. I'll get very introspective on you all. I apologize-to an extent. Ice Cream For Breakfast is a no bullshitting game.
There's gonna be some bubble pops.
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