nothing in parbookicular

Barnes and Noble! The hustle and bustle of little and adult feet sift pass me in hopes of finding that perfect book. I've found an empty display case to nestle in front of and charge my laptop. Convenience is sweet to the palette. My little Nubian sits to the right completing her reading log for school. Her first is on the brain. This moment is so surreal. Various voices pop up sporadically from the escalator; some loud and disruptive while others are quiet and controlled. Humans and lots of them!

People make the world go round. Because we are walking Picasso's it makes living much more interesting. What if we all goal to appreciate and see one another as the art we truly are instead of attempting to make everybody like us? Would we get along better? There has to be a way for us to at least try to get along efficently and honestly with one another. Their are folk on this planet that I simply do not like, but that is after sitting in their presence for a time or because that individual challenged me in some fashion as to insult or transfer feelings of inadequacy or because that individual see’s me as a threat. Humans live in constant fear to some extent.

We challenge one another out of ignorance or self-gratification. It has everything to do with one person wanting to be more intelligent than the other, but I find that way of thinking a waste of time when we are all Picasso's. There is no competition. There is no superiority or inferiority; only the myopic in thinking and insecure would come to that conclusion. We only need tap into our imbedded talents and gifts. Screw conformity!

I have a little one standing next to me with the serious giggles. Her mother is patiently indulging while sorting through the yoga kit display. Her daughter, the giggler, is about five in age wearing a short sun-ray skirt that she tugs at exposing chubby legs. Her little teeth smile is a bright crescent moon and out of it bellows sparkly giggles; giggles that become contagious for me and my little one. I reassure her mother it is not a distraction. I mention we as adults need to get the giggles sometimes. She concurs by saying she just put down a book on depression. All she need do is laugh more.

Right off one would be perceived as nuts if charged to break into giggles while sitting on the train or a park bench, but it is quite sane and healthy; more so than fits of crying. Maybe adults lose their child-likeness as age progresses and that somehow makes us imbalanced birthing competition in an unhealthy manner. It is so easy to make friendly with nice people. Openness penetrates all barriers. Note: be friendly.

Feet continue to sift, at times, stomp by in hopes of finding that perfect book and voices continue to rise from the escalator; contained and uncontained. Funny, I am now noticing I’ve been sitting west of the relationship shelf this entire time. “Why Men Love Bitches,” stands out. I will not address this subject today.

My little one is now on log six: Wild Cats. This is still so surreal. Humans; we are defiantly one-of-a kind!