Finding the answers

There was an energy, momentum that came with the rise of the new year. As I reflected along the shore of an island, I found purity and surety that, as a collective consciousness, we will find a way out of this muck. In all the despair, there lives hope. Hope endured because we all were using our voice in a way that this society hasn’t witnessed in a long time. In a way that my generation of peers have never experienced. Presently, there seems to be a airy silence. Things seem to go along as business as usual.
​Or we find funny commentary to get past this collective fate.
But I can’t help to feel that this is not our truth. There is a subconscious cry for things to make manifest. I can hear it! Sometimes, it’s that cry that inspires me. In the same breathe, it is in that cry that becomes a weight that I carry along with me in my day. Finding it difficult to shake, to smile, to shine. I’m not a modern being, the things of this world don't inspire me the way they might others.
I find myself searching  for the answers in the trees, in the sun, in the food; knowing that solutions exist, but not seeing that collective embrace. We are all somehow bounded in these roles that keep us preoccupied and become barriers that separate us from what is the truest reflection of ourselves.
I don’t want to hide anymore behind my own perceived self. 
​What is there to lose?
​We possess nothing, if we don’t know I.