Things that make you go huh...

Bare with me. This may be a repeat offense. I can't help but let my fingers do the talking as they seemingly have a mind of their own. Stroking my hair, tapping my keys, caressing my lips, magically connecting to a thought my heart won't let go of. How do they do that so well....

"This is a case in which I need more than words to find the meaning." ~ Joan Didion

The world has forgotten how to communicate. Well, let me rephrase. Human beings have forgotten how to interact with other human beings live and in color. We are not our facebook statuses, our tweets, our filtered photos. We are not our selfies or job titles. We are what we do. We are who we are alone while strategically crafting our social media images in pursuit of perfection. We are forgetting how to be human.

I fear it's been last in translation far too many years ago to be in arms reach for those who pause long enough to know it's out there. Key word being: pause.

There's a gratifying heart felt beauty in simplicity. A sophistication cast aside by the catastrophic love of our iPhones, Bentleys, Uggs, Movados and all the luxurious possessions we either have or enviously crave.

Secretly we yearn for the simple things. We all just don't want to say it out loud.

Let's pretend you've never tasted a Manhattan or sipped chilled patron.

Let's pretend you've never felt the sand between your toes or sat in awe of a sunrise.

Let's pretend you have yet to hear your favorite song or stood in front of a masterpiece.

Let's pretend we've never met so we can start all over again.

Let's pretend my Mom met you while walking the dog or your Dad sat next to me on a park bench as I read his favorite book. They just had to get us perfect children in the same room.

I've been hanging on so long this time around.

Let's pretend you are too.

My heart won't let my fingertips stray. They feel too good gently smoothing my lips. My arms know it's out there. The notion of connection, of interaction, of discovery of ones soul. The rarity of another moral compass set to gracious soothing rawness. My being knows it's not to late. I can translate for you.

I'd call, but the sight of your aging crinkles around your smile isn't the same felt through the phone.
So, let me talk with you for a while. I'll stay as long as you'd let me. Be honest, be brave, be curious and courageous. Be who you are when you're alone in the bath or your first thought when you shake off the nights dream. Just be you. Please hold on to those pieces you construct for the outsiders, I don't want the full picture. I want to sit with you as you paint the puzzle slowly over time.

I'll never ask you how you're doing, because that question lies in rhetorics.

I'll listen quietly, because this is the essence of listening.

Fill the silence with thoughts you contmeplate duirng your morning run or traffic jam. We can sit there in comfort and let peace take hold.

The silence will become natural and the words will flow as they do now to my finger tips.

If for no reason at all but for one more one last time. Let's play pretend.

Hey Man

Listening to the voices is exhausting. These days for most, listening is an art. I'm trapped in a bubble. Pop it and watch the beautiful people squeal. They'd squirm leaving squishy studded beams with enough power to warm the other coast. The one where reality exists unapologetically enduring puffs of cookie cutter crispness.

Why we corn pickin', cow tippin' pop drinkin', morally driven nice rude ones choose to roam amongst the shiny objects seems rhetorical, right. Sand, surf, sun....beautiful people in, on and with beautiful toys. Silly Nat.

Now listen. Shh....you should be listening. This may take a while.

That little obnoxious sound you hear is you. Dear gods, I hope you can still hear it. Your soul is calling, pick the hell up. Communicate. We do live in the age where you'd have to most likely orbit the planet to get away from all the ways eyes are hearing you. They may even be out there too.

If I am thinking about you, you know. I'll send some random text signed with a fun fact or wanderlust declaration after I just threw a dart at the map. People stay with me. They teach me, excite me, pinch something giving the voices just enough time to whisper their lesson. We're all teachers of some kind. We all hold within us secrets laced in experience Vicki can't put in her semi-annual sale.

Exhausted feels good. It means you've kept your soul.

No you can't buy me a drink. Man.

Tell me something new. Enlighten me. Open your mouth to educate those around you. Shut up long enough to pay attention. Experience enough to inspire uncensored realness on all coasts.

Where has all the drive gone.

You have a degree. Congrats it takes real effort to be stupid these days.

I can tell how intelligent you are by the way you take care of your body, how long it takes you to converse, the time you waste doing the things you love. You can't fake conversation but you can fake an orgasm. Tell me again women are inferior to men....

Stand alone until your so comfortable the only crowded room you enter is a candy store of intellect.

Sure, by all means, follow the masses, shun the offensive, pun the lethal, sit because someone else had a dream pretending it's alright because their mission matters. Slowly age with uncontainable beliefs although you wear the same hat, turning up for the same beat, confirming history's record of repeating itself.

Tell a lie simple enough for long enough and it becomes the truth.

This is not a booty call. This, therefore, is a problem. Just turn on the radio. Within seconds you're guaranteed to hear melodies all expressing the same thing. Use me. Better yet, I'll like it. If only us common folk could make it rain for turning it up. This is exactly what we need to turn down for.

Be real. Actually look around to process the images voices. Be everything they tell you not to be. Watch out for conformity masked in unique overlays. Don't buy the fabric. It itches anyway.

A friend asked me what I meant when I told him I wanted the simple things. This version of simple is rather complicated. Excuse the voices in my head.

I want to be exhausted.  And I want you to come with me.