Thinkin' of you

How often do you think about your family and friends? I don't mean the off hand thinking like,
" Gotta remember to buy some milk for mum ". I mean really hold them as objects in the palm of your hand and reflecting on them as people? I had a dream last night that one of my friends said to me that they never thought about me. I kid you not, in the dream i punched her in the face and broke off the friendship with her. Upon awakening, i thought to myself, " Shit, that was the most straight forward dream i've had in ages". Normally dreams are a Neapolitan ice cream mix of swirly crap that doesn't make sense. But what I experienced felt like an episode from TV or something.

The thing is, i think about people a lot. It doesn't mean that i'm emotionally attached to them or whatever, but i do wonder about the minds of other people and whether they hurt or happy like i do. One of the most curious experiences is when someone from your past makes it into your present day consciousness or dream. It's then that i realise i'm carrying a mind that has a memory of its own which is separate from my everyday memory. My mind remembers events and people from years ago and when it feels like it, flashes me back to that time in a snatch of self revelation. Thinking about people makes me feel wise and in touch with the world. I wonder who in the world thinks about me? Wonders about me? Asks questions about me?

There's a famous saying that goes, " What other people think of us is none of our business ". You know, i've always liked this saying because it reserves not only space for thought for the people around us, but also for ourselves. I like the posit that what i think about you, is none of your business and your thoughts on me are none of mine. It creates a distance between us which if agreed upon through vibes and feelings, we can bridge across together. And that's really just what friendship and relationships are, I guess. Us bridging the gap between ourselves and that other person.

The most unexpected people make it into the sanctum of my private thoughts. Strangers i've passed on the street, people at work i never speak to, friends from the past that i no longer keep in contact with. The thoughts i have are never good or bad per se. They are merely reflections of the person. Their edge, their color and their personal bouquet which they offer to the world.