Split

My thoughtful inattention

comes off as disconnection

I know.

It seems like I’m not listening

when it’s only that I’m contemplating.

I’m thinking about what you said

two minutes ago.

Or I look in your eyes

and swear I see

landscapes moving there.

They’re beautiful places, of course I’d like to go there.

And I know,

well I’ve always been told,

that it’s rude to stare.

 

So I retreat

and start thinking about

the way people speak.

Close proximity

can make some meek

while over distance

they become bold.

Technology grows kids too old,

they say and hear things they are not ready for,

and adults forget consequences

or choose to ignore.

They turn confident,

sometimes cruel,

sometimes thinking they’re cool.

Often it’s too hard

to work out what is truth

and what is meaningless.

These are the things that make me stress.

 

Then I’m back,

asking what you said,

chastising me

in my head.

Take this with you from now on;

every moment can be learned from.

Seeing

I went to the lighthouse this afternoon. It was a nice day, a little windy but the sun was out. I bought myself a milkshake. In the time I spent there it was depressing to see the amount of people who were there not to enjoy the view or the simple fact of being outdoors, but to capture the perfectly framed selfie.

A twist this way and that, a snap, and they were on their way. They pretend they’ve had this great experience in a beautiful place and they haven’t at all. They’ve spent two minutes looking at a screen looking to impress people who are all probably doing the same thing.

The fact is there was so much to see that they missed while they were busy manufacturing fiction. Two pelicans gliding on the wind together, three surfers off the rocks trying their luck, a couple huddled together on an outcrop, a kayaker fighting the chop, a windsurfer battling solo, fishermen methodically casting out, the changing hues of the sea as it rocked and rolled, 2d ships anchored on the horizon, the first signs of spring as the seagulls got busy with each other.

These things.. are life. It is happening, it is moving forward and stopping to watch is as much meaning as one is going to get. I stood amongst bodies moving back and forth and it struck me that I was the only one¬†seeing these things. These things are life, the photo on your screen is nothing. It’s not an indication of your time spent. If it was it would show your eyes closed.