Somebody made fun of me. Without humor, in front of me, hoping I wouldn't notice. Later, I went for a walk and let a sorrow that I haven't felt for a long time roll around and scrape at my guts. It must have been laundry day because most balconies had clothes hanging, swaying in the breeze. The chests of the shirts puffed up as they breathed in the breeze and shrunk as they breathed out. The skirts fluttered. I think about stupidity sometimes, especially when I walk. About my own stupidity and the various ways it comes out. No, I don't think I'm stupid. Somewhere a while back, I talked about the ways that I'm dumb. It's not in all ways, just in some ways. I say dumb things a lot. I'm comfortable with having my dumb moments. They might bother other people, but I don't mind them. In some ways, I like them. They make up part of who I am. As I walked, I saw a woman holding her full grown golden retriever like a baby while the neighborhood kids gathered around and reached to touch its fur. When she put him back down, he immediately rolled onto his back and pawed at the sky so the kids would have easy belly-rubbing access. In the background, the dark grey clouds in the sky brought out the purple in the flowering trees and made them look electric. Like big purple light bulbs against a grey ceiling. Little pockets of beauty to make me feel better. That's when I realized that everyone is dumb. In some ways, in at least one way, everyone is dumb. Everyone. No one can be good and smart and gifted at everything. I'm dumb at talking. Big deal. Anyone who focuses on that, on the dumbness of the people around them, is dumb at empathy. And that's okay. We've all got our weaknesses, our dumbness. I rounded a corner and nearly ran into two young girls, maybe 10-ish. One was grinning menacingly while pushing the other, struggling and near tears, towards a group of boys playing soccer. I wanted to stop them and tell them that it'll be okay. That they'll grow out of this. Some day down the road, they'll grow out of this. Or so they say.
But I kept walking.
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