Crying underneath the mask

We are certainly cursed to be living in interesting times. Don’t know whether to laugh or laugh some more. I don’t want to say cry. Yet, as I was walking the city streets all masked up I started thinking about people crying. Crying a lot. Despondent. In pain.

When I walk to work, if not on a work call, I’m listening to music. With the mask on, I now tend to even sing out loud. I just belt it out. I figure that no one knows who it is. I also, probably incorrectly, tend to think the mask soothes out my bad singing voice. It’s all good.

However, I got thinking about not singing underneath the mask but instead crying. I wondered how many people were walking around masked up, even with sunglasses on, just crying underneath the mask. Belting out a good cry. Letting out the pain in the midst of so many others masked up.

If you stop and feel for a second at a city street corner, you may very well feel a groundswell of pain, hurt, and grief knocking you back.

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