There are so many “things” in the world that I do not understand and feel overwhelmed by thoughts racing through my mind. Some of these things are big, some far less impacting, but my “cup runneth over” not with joy but with sadness, emptiness, melancholy. It all makes my world seem so small and insignificant at times, as if I should be doing more.
I don’t understand any kind of abuse of children, elderly, animals, and any living creature.
I don’t understand Amanda Bynes’ mental condition. (Is she bipolar, schizophrenic, MPD?)
I don’t understand paparazzi.
I don’t understand why the endings of some novels leave me completely satisfied and wanting more, and others leave me completely disturbed and with more questions and STILL wanting more.
I don’t understand terrorism, beheadings, wars, suicide bombings.
I don’t understand why gay men and women can’t married legally in certain parts of the world.
I don’t understand why anyone is hungry, and why anyone doesn’t have access to clean, fresh water.
I don’t understand humans sometimes.
I don’t understand myself sometimes.
But I understand myself more today than I did yesterday, and in that, I feel slightly comforted.
In that, I can fly on the wings of my hope and my imagination.