sometimes i think i'm an angel

I never told anyone that before. You have to admit that it sounds a bit schizoid, and I wouldn't want to make anyone feel uncomfortable not knowing how to respond to such a statement. So I've never told anyone.

See, I've lived quite a few lives, and I've died a few... well, almost died. I believe that I survived because there's a greater purpose for me. There are some things that I have to stick around for. I'm not really sure what those things are but I have a feeling that I'm doing them now.

I absolutely love people. I really do. I love to watch them, talk to them, listen to them, and help them. At times, I feel like I have all of these little curly antennas that invisibly protrude from my body... soaking up other people's emotions, absorbing the feelings that they're trying to hide while trying to be normal. I read people well and I talk to them.

When I look at people waiting in the checkout line at the grocery store, I see a tough looking biker smoothing out the back of his T-shirt. I see an embarrassed, middle aged woman looking sideways to the line of people waiting behind her and apologizing because she doesn't have enough money with her. And I smile. I smile because it's ok. I understand, and I'm embarrassed for you. I smile because I straighten out my T-shirt to cover my butt too.

There are people that never smile. They never say nice things, and they're always crabby. Sometimes that really bothers me, but most times I pretend that I don’t notice and keep on talking to them. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn't.
I can't change the world. But I try.

So why do I feel things so intensely? How can I convey such emotion in my art that causes people to say so? Am I a medium for the message? Can I help you to feel, to respond, and to become a part of it all? I was sitting here tonight pondering how I could write what I feel. As I watched Stone Philips talking on the television, I thought about what he does in the privacy of his own home, when he's not in front of a camera. I thought of my friends on the web, and how much I care about them, how everyone is so special in whatever they do, and I could cry.

Maybe everyone should almost die once or twice. And when you live because it's not your time yet, maybe you'll see people with their emotions showing. It won't be about impatiently waiting for old people. It won't be about the money and it won't be all about you. And you'll care. Maybe you'll feel like an angel sometimes too.

* I originally wrote this story for Jeff, on The Internet Brother’s site

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