Do you remember?
What it felt like?
To not just be the person riding in your body, viewing your life through devices used for sight?
Yes, I do.
To gaze around your world with wide eyes?
Yes, and to see the world for the beauty it is. So I went to the rainforest.
To have a seemingly permanent smile?
Yes. So I looked for friendship.
To not just hear the constant noise?
Yes. So I went to Japan.
To hear a new song and feel chills run down your spine for the sheer brilliance of every note, every cord, every verse?
Yes. So I went to Berlin.
To listen to the sounds of life?
Yes. So I went to New Orleans.
To listen to the silence of snowfall or the rhythm of rain?
Yes. So I stayed home.
To not just eat to survive or avoid it at all costs to fit into everything?
Yes. So I went to New York.
To taste an explosion of flavors and revel in each delicious one?
Yes. So I went to Venice.
To not just smell smoke or fumes or charred food or blood, and ignore them all?
Yes. So I went to Rome.
To breathe in the aromas of cooking meat and warm chocolate and baked bread, fresh flowers and cut grass and cool salt water?
Yes. So I went to Paris.
To not just feel burns on your arms and fingertips, or your own body’s rebellion?
Yes. So I went to Argentina.
To feel a lover’s soft hair, or an all-encompassing embrace from true friends, or a cooling breeze?
Yes. So I went to London.
To have adrenaline running through your veins?
Yes. So I went to Madrid.
To lack breath, not from a disease or malice, but from laughing until no more sound will come, or a kiss that makes it impossible, or a sight that takes it away?
Yes. So I returned to London.
To smile so bright it could power whole countries?
Yes. So I took the risk and asked them.
To be connected to every touch, every sight, every sound?
Yes. So I listened when they answered me.
To love without abandon and as if you have never felt true pain?
Yes. So I picked the place we’d go.
To live each day excited to wake up and anxious to sleep, only to seek the new opportunities of the next?
Yes. So I asked them to spend the night.
To wake up to sunlight streaming through the windows and feel its warmth?
Yes. So I watched them wake up beside me in the morning.
To know the love of your parents, the protection of your siblings, and the comfort of your friends?
Yes. So I moved to London.
To hope for what may come?
Yes. So I kneeled.
To have faith in the world and marvel at its wonders?
Yes. So I asked.
To love another as if you have always known how and never truly got the chance?
Yes. So I put the ring on their finger.
To feel anticipation and excitement?
Yes. So I kissed them as if it was the first time.
To feel your stomach dropping, not from dread or fear, but from the thrill of a roller coaster or the sheer amazement of a return of affection?
Yes. So I stared at the test in amazement.
To approach hospital doors not to watch loved ones leave us, or to hear news we’re terrified of?
To see a new life come into the world, or a stranger take their first few steps again after having lost all hope they ever would?
Yes. So I held them for the first time.
To lift a child into the air and give to them the gift of flight, even if it’s only for a few moments?
Yes. So I lifted them high and twirled them around.
To dream as if you will live for a thousand years, and even the wildest ones seeming almost possible?
Yes. So I watched them grow into adults, seeking their own adventures.
To not just be surviving?
I hope one day, you’ll say me too.
So when did we become so… numb?
Let’s not be. Together.
So when did we become so… numb?
When did we decide to be?