under the bridge: an rhcp cover

Insulated from suffering in a skybubble I spend most of my waking life far from home. On visits back to earth, I encounter suffering. The nurse who lost her father to the pandemic, the woman whose marriage to a pharma entrepreneur ended in divorce amid a drug-running scandal, her still-silent son: the suffering of fellows.

When you learn someone, you learn the maps of their inner worlds. In these maps you encounter joy, you encounter love, you encounter suffering. In isolation, innured by comfort, how can you ever claim to know suffering? Locked away in a skybubble I spend most of my waking life, far from home, far from suffering. It’s on visits back that I learn people, that I experience them, that I experience their joy, that I experience their love, that I experience their suffering.

Under the bridge downtown, as they say, is where I drew some blood.