You know who doesn't make sense. People. People who spend their lives constantly contradicting themselves as the answers stare them down with every single second. People, who blatantly berate others and destroy them into teeny tiny pieces and then later on complain about how there is such a mess. People, who spend their lives looking for the obviously impossible, yet everyday they smile about their supposed destiny, I have another word for it, Insanity. People, who cry over movies which are blatantly cliche and then say "I don't care if I cry." People, who incessantly whine about situations that are obviously unchangeable, while ignoring every single little thing can be changed. People, who talk about love as if their word is gospel while living in complete denial about how disfuctional their relationship really is. People, who spend their lives doing inherently wrong while constantly reprimanding the world with their cynicism. These people are illogical. They are inconceivable. And yet they are the spectacles of our lives. Leading me to the final "people" who I don't understand at all. People like you who are reading this softly nodding your head without realizing that all the faults I listed here are your own.

                          I am tired of this backward perception of confidence in ones own intelligence. We are taught in school to assume we are wrong and then learn how to be "right" from the teachers. This is the dumbest assumption one can make. Do you not live in the hopes to be right? When you make decisions do you not try to make the "right" decisions for you? If all of this is so then why would you assume that you are in the wrong?

                        In life when posed a query we give answers. Answers are made in the hopes of being correct. So why would you have wrong answers? If you ask me what 1+1 is and I say 11, why should I have any reason to believe I am wrong. The truth is I shouldn't. Until you should me literally how 1+1=2 I should stay firm by my answer. Why? Well like I said, I didn't give the answer in the hopes of being wrong.

                          As a society we need to destroy this fear of being wrong. Otherwise no one will ever be wrong because for someone to be wrong they initially must be right. Any neutral standpoint holds no answer. And once we accept that something has no answer, we have accepted that it will be able to dictate the way we live our lives. When there is no answer then there is no hope or progress. Without hope or progress life as we know it will become completely pointless.

                                  And there we were. Walking onto the decadent A train franticly searching for a seat. She finds a window seat and I sit at the end of a three seat row. A man politely offers the seat next to her, but I decline, we aren't a pair. However once the man left I took my natural place next to her. We are friends, but the conversation between us flows too well. The words go effortlessly and seam into a beautiful mosaic in which only we understand the small idiosyncracies that make it so special. We talked for a bit until I could see the look of exhaustion on her face. She was tired from all the bliss and all the words shared that day. So I offered my shoulder as a pillow. Once she began to rest on my shoulder thats when I began to take notice.

                             Their eyes peered through me speaking volumes in such a short time. They reflected millions of emotions, many I knew, but some I couldn't even fathom. These emotions ranged from hate to confusion to defiance. Why were they even doing this? Sitting together, creating a discord in the natural way of things. Conversation is one thing, but affection is not tolerated. You are you and she is she. Still I smiled as they spoke these things to me with their eyes. Their hate and intolerance couldn't effect me. For I was far to preoccupied with making sure she was comfortable. That moment on the train I felt great. I beamed with happiness knowing what we were doing that day. We represented the agent of change. We represented an end to those hateful glares. We represented a time where white and black are just colors in a crayon box. We represented the future, that seems so bleak, but to us it couldn't be better. And so for that small moment I felt her hair brush on my face and cherished all the awkwardness in the room for I knew we were just another group of city kids, slowly eradicating the hatred our parents and grandparents have fought against for decades. But just for today we were in complete ignorant bliss. All this was to us was an everyday train ride on the a, slowly falling asleep to the rhythmic soul of the city. Stand clear for the closing doors.