Thoughts

Today, I visited the mall. I kept my tired eyes on my feet as I paced, watched as they caressed the gleaming floor. With earbuds snug in my ears, filling my mind with the music from my favorite artists, I was utterly and contentedly in my own world. Oblivion is a punishment but this kind of oblivion was an escape. It was salvation from the loud bedlam of banter that always accompanied a crowd.
After half an hour or so, I looked up from my world, and put away the earbuds. And for the first time, I actually looked at everything. I let my eyes take in everything from the colors used for shop banners to the type of jewelry this passer by wore. I perused the items behind the window of a store that didn't seem to receive many visits from eager customers, saw the sales lady sitting behind the counter, filing her already perfect nails. Mostly, I was taken aback by the flood of conversation that seemed to arise from all locations, all around me. It was as if I was thrown into a sea of people where I was a mere drop of water trying to make a sound while the current tossed me around. It was disconcerting but pretty intriguing (at least, I found it that way). Then, I began to stop looking at things. I looked at people. Certainly I didn't look at them in a creepy way or make it seem like I was some crazed stalker. I took fleeting glances but in those momentary looks, my mind tried was overcome by another flood of thought, of questions, of curiosity. As I took fleeting glances at the company I was surrounded by, I couldn't help but wonder what they were made of. I wondered what made them who they were today, what made them dress the way they dress, talk the way they talk, smile the way they smile, walk the way they walk. I racked my brain, trying to figure out what were the sort of materials and hues used in weaving the arras of their lives. I wondered how many of them were content inside. Did they have all they wanted in life? Were their hearts still wandering the streets at night looking for their better halves? What fears plagued their minds? What sort of painful conundrums and experiences shaped them into who they are today? The old man holding hands with his true love. Such a happy couple they looked like. Were they always happy? The mother juggling her screaming children. Was she a single mother with no help? Was it difficult to be her? The man with the briefcase and tie. Did he know what God intended for him? Did he do everything he was told back when he was a kid? School. High school. College. Job. Was he happy with how his life turned out? Did he want more? Had he been forced to surrender his artistic desires to pursue something people deemed more worthy? Did he ever stop to smell the roses? Certainly he has heard that saying but has he literally done it before? Has he literally paused and take pleasure in nature's little gifts such as the smell of a blooming, healthy, crimson rose? The wispy child holding his precious plushy. Would he be famous one day? Would he change the world in ways impossible to imagine at present?
Then I wondered what they thought when they glanced at me. Do they wonder who I am? Me, the unassuming girl wandering aimlessly, pushing through the crowd in a hurry to go nowhere.