I’m always looking to categorize things and group them together. People in cars, people smoking ciggarettes, people with t-shirts depicting other people, and so on and so on. I figure I may as well add couples to the list.
My girlfriend told me that I’m just too sensitive to everything around me tonight. I was lamenting all the terrible people I ran across in service positions. the girl who treated me like dirt when she saw the little asterisk next to my name indicating my poor credit history, or the woman in the 15 items or less lane with double that amount and watching every line item on the register like a hawk and treating the old friendly disabled bagger like he was just another annoyance in her day. She was totally oblivious to anyone else or anything that didn’t involve her coupons. The guy that tossed his lit ciggarette only half smoked out the little crack of his window at the stoplight. I wanted to jump out of my car and get that cigarette and give it back to him personally.
I’m getting worked up just writing about it. I’m always looking at other people, observing the little eye rolls and smirks, catching the attitude in their voice and letting it get to me. I just soak all that negativity in and try to act like I don’t notice it, but then when I get home I unload on whoever first crosses my path. I tell my stories, and eventually I start to realize I’m yelling and turning all red, and I have to stop and go make some cammomile or something to calm myself.
I’m just so fed up with all the hate. I look through my images that I capture of people on the street, and I would say that 75% of them look completely miserable in the moment. Sometimes they know I’m taking the shot, which I usually assume is why they look so unhappy, but sometimes I don’t make it obvious and they are still glaring back at the world. Who can blame them really? This world is scary and uncertain. The news is completely ridiculous on a daily basis.
Today my daughter and I watched police car after police car race by us while driving to her gymnastics class, they were all heading to Arapahoe High School in response to another school shooting. Everywhere I go with her, people are talking about it, a man at the gymnasistcs class is listening to the police scanner on his iPhone in a room full of kids. Now my 3-year-old daughter is fascinated and full of questions about death and suicide. Those are tough questions to answer. I’m just extremely in tune to the negativity today. I need to change my perspective.