I thought that I despised people … until now.
I’m a public relations practitioner by trade. My job is to help control the narrative. Our truth.
People are my number one enemy, with their doubt and dissension, despite that I provide our gospel. As a journalist-at-heart, I appreciate them. Still, they annoy me.
They ask questions that I’ve already answered. Often, they believe that I’m keeping something from them. Truth is, I’m the middle-man.
I craft the messages to be understandable by the masses. My messages are usually translated and disseminated within minutes. I’m not paid for.
Yet, they doubt. Disagree. Spew conspiracy theories of an improbable bigger picture at times.
I am a father, husband, friend and confidant. I lie only to myself … about things like my over-eating, over-drinking, and even my ability as a romancer. But it stops there.
People, as it turns out, are my number one enemy — and my priority.
I disagree with them and their popular opinions. I despise their lack of reasoning. I often think of them as lemmings jumping from a cliff.
But I also know that my opinion about them was way shortsighted. This pandemic and my lack of real contact have proven that to me.
I miss the quandaries they handed me. I lament their doubtful moments. The lack of questions from them has left me emptier than I would have ever expected.
I love them more than I realized and cannot wait for the dissension to commence once again.
Two Wordsmiths 