Who are we?* we ask, always asking ourselves the same questions...
We are the world.
We are brothers and sisters. Sons and daughters.
We are friends, cousins, acquaintances...
We are lovers and enemies, and also, strangers.
We are anyone and everyone, all at once.
We are, despite all else, connected.
That must mean something to us. Shouldn't it?
We are 7.5 billion bodies, each alike in enough ways that might make our differences invisible. (But are they?)
We are the same, in so many ways. Enough that our similarities should outweigh our inevitable differences. Our similarities should be enough to prove that our differences are not worth fighting about. Yet, somehow, they aren't. Because we do fight. We fight without any known rhyme or reason, and without genuine purpose. Without empathy. We fight over our differences with enough audacity to claim that they should be ranked. With the belief that each of our differences should be sorted, allowing some of us to be valued as less than others, and also, some of us valued so much more. So, we fight. Like siblings or old lovers. Every single day. Probably have since the beginning of time, or, rather, when we created the concept of time. Perhaps the fighting began when we became a we. And since, the fighting has been constant. It's the only thing that really brings us together. And the one thing tearing us apart.
We find any excuse we can that will bring us closer to division rather than unity. Somehow, we are still far too concerned with the qualities that make us different rather than with those that which we share. And for so many of us, it seems easier to choose not to share. We are selfish and we rarely share. We are all in this together however we behave as though we are unaware the other exists. Mindlessly we share similar DNA but we act like we don't care. It must be easier to behave as though we are unaware. We do whatever it takes to ignore the facts that lie right before our eyes and we build walls around them. We look the other way, in any direction that might lead us into misdirection. We pretend we don't see, that we don't know, that we don't care.
We the people, of the world. We the hopeless, the reckless, the desperate... We the lost.
We are time-wasters, dream-chasers and we are all ******* fakers. We are figments of our own imaginations. We are alternate versions of ourselves living in realities of our own creation. Realities that aren't real at all, just like us. We hide beneath our fake faces and our fake words. Our fabricated worlds are all we have to show for. We live in pretty, little bubbles as an escape from our invisible reality, in an effort to shield ourselves from the dangers of the world. We're supposed to be in this together, though somehow we'd all rather be alone. We've forgotten the meaning of we, and we've doomed ourselves to eternal loneliness. We are, if nothing else at all, inherently lonely.