Keeping Things at a Superficial Level
In the bustling bazaar of life,
there are fleeting conversations,
each word a stepping stone across a stream,
washed smooth by the currents of politeness.
We wander, gathering snippets of laughter,
clouds of idle chatter,
always skimming the surface,
afraid to dive too deep.
“I love your shoes,” they say,
anchoring our exchange,
a compliment fluttering like a butterfly,
its wings dusted with the paint of pleasantries.
We gaze at the vibrant patterns,
the shimmer of sequins,
but what lies beneath,
in the fabric of existence,
remains unspoken.
In crowded cafes, we sip our coffees,
the steam swirling upwards,
mist obscuring the depth of thoughts,
as we discuss the weather,
an endless cycle of seasons,
that never quite touches the soul.
“Isn’t it lovely today? ”
they smile, as sunlight warms the pavement,
but the clouds of yesterday,
or the storms waiting tomorrow,
are silent,
as we stir our mugs,
lost in our foamy dreams.
We swipe through the screens,
fingers dancing across the surface,
a tapestry of stories,
filtered through the lens of perfection.
Selfies, sunsets, smiles,
hardly a wrinkle or frown to be found,
isn't it enchanting, this waltz with the superficial?
Selectively curated,
each moment a masterpiece of artifice,
crafted to hide the mess of life’s paint splatters,
the unkempt edges of our reality.
“Oh, did you see that new movie? ”
Conversation drifts like a balloon,
hovering high above the more profound,
trivial threads woven with gossamer ease,
like whispered secrets shared in crowded rooms.
Reels of actors playing characters
who dance upon the surface,
never touching the raw undercurrents
that tremble beneath our skins.
“Politics? Oh, it’s so dreary! ”
Laughter ripples at the mention,
fingers pointing through the fog,
as if we could ward off the truth with jest.
We turn our backs on the thunder of ideologies
to gossip about the richness of someone's wealth
or the gloss of a celebrity’s latest scandal,
ever so careful to keep matters light,
flitting from topic to topic,
like a butterfly flutters from flower to flower.
“Oh, isn’t she immense?
Did you notice her new hairstyle? ”
The essence of who we are
trapped behind a façade of hair gels and makeup,
the legacy of filters painting over flaws,
kissing our individuality goodbye.
Inspired by a moment,
a fleeting glance in a salon window,
we repeat the cycle,
lapping up the surface sheen,
never dipping our toes into the depths.
In the world of social gatherings,
we toast to health, to happiness,
we cling to our platitudes like lifebuoys.
“Cheers! ” rings out,
an echo of camaraderie,
but the tremors of real emotion
are buried under layers of etiquette,
the heaviness of unvoiced pain,
of burdens masked by bright smiles.
With every smile and nod,
our reflections dance like light breaking through water,
beautiful yet blurred,
insatiable in our need to keep it light.
We share recipes, hobbies,
the latest binge-worthy series,
shallow pools that shimmer with surface ripples,
never revealing what truly lies beneath.
We scroll through scrolling screens,
the digital tide crashing against our sanity,
“Did you see the latest viral video? ”
Our laughter handles our existential doubts,
as we swipe through happiness distilled to snippets,
an Instagram reel, a TikTok moment,
each pixel painted with the insecurity
that roils beneath our public facades.
And yet, here, in this trance,
the comfort of avoidance wraps us warm,
content in blissful ignorance,
“Why should I care? ” we ponder,
as we chase the sunset of the superficial,
when the sunrise of depth awaits quietly,
its brilliance lost to our distraction.
In cliques and circles, we gather and gossip,
the sacred bubble of camaraderie,
where laughter echoes without introspection,
hearts beating in sync, yet distant,
veering away from the raw flesh of truth,
to buoyant exchange of trivial remarks
that buoy the spirit rather than bind the soul.
“I heard she’s getting married! ”
We clutch our cups tight,
fireworks of joy in our eyes,
the love story — a fairy tale at first glance,
yet beneath the glimmer of diamond rings,
the foundation might tremble,
the whispers of doubt cloaked in fabric,
unraveled by the complexities of time.
Let us talk of travel adventures,
as we unfold stories of sandy beaches,
mountain treks, and culinary delights,
sharing merely the gift of taste,
the visual rapids of experiences
that skim across our consciousness,
while storms of deeper feelings rage below,
longing for a port of call,
but trapped in a world of cheerful travel brochures.
“Have you read that bestseller? ”
We exchange nods as pages turn,
summarizing plots intended to captivate,
but nudging aside the nuances of character,
the metamorphosis of mankind caught in ink.
We light the path of discussion with
the “what ifs” of mundane tales,
stepping aside the moments that could sink us.
Alas, time moves on,
unfurling threads of moments past,
and we remain buoyant,
with fleeting marks on calendars,
surfaces brushed lightly with memories,
highlighting the laughter, muted grief,
the tides that rose behind us,
as we flutter through our superficial web.
At the end of the day,
the moon casts its silver glow,
hushing the rhythms of the day’s engagement.
We sweep off the mask,
gathering solitude like a warm blanket,
our reflections forcing their way
through the filmy pane of pretense.
What if I peeled back the layers?
Risked a glance beyond the facade
to the rich tapestry that is our being,
wondered aloud about our hidden woes,
the dreams softly crumbling to dust,
could we confront the swells and tides,
the heartbeats lining the vastness of existence?
The fears wrapped in the cloaks of silence,
the stories longing to weave into the narrative,
of vaster truths that echo through time.
But no,
for superficial comfort cradles us,
nestling itself softly like a gentle lullaby,
tethering us to safety,
to the world outside that waits silently,
while we dance this effortless waltz
with silence smeared across our palettes,
content to dismiss our inner echoes,
while we keep things at a superficial level.
And yet,
within the wave of simplicity,
there may lie a spark,
a flicker guiding us homeward,
to seek the depths where love brews,
where voices rise above the hum,
and hands embrace the weight of shared stories,
the laughter deep and rich,
the tears an affirmation of our common journey.
So here’s to us, to those moments,
flickering and beautiful,
dancing on the edge of life,
and perhaps, one day,
we might dare to dive,
to find the mysteries in the abyss,
woven into the very fabric
of who we are,
embracing both the light and the shadows,
surpassing the superficial,
like a brilliant phoenix rising.
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