We hug tree trunks.
We hug celestial bodies.
Be a pioneer and go it alone - I dare you.
Be a patron saint and try and make no mistakes - I double-dog-dare you.
Be a purveyor of human souls and never forget someone else created you - I triple-dog-dare you.
You’re not James Bond.
You’re not Mother Teresa or Mahatma Gandhi.
You’re not the be all and end all of everything and everyone.
We hug naked truths in our undiagnosed states of unseeing.
We hug burly, bearded teamsters in our uninformed states of class warfare.
We hug our children with dirty hands and vulgar mouths in plain view of God Almighty.
Be an iconoclast and go the distance before you’re dead and buried in an unvisited grave.
Be a rebel without a prenup and pull out all the stops before you’re burned and your ashes are left blowing in the chilly winds.
Be an actual person with thoughts, feelings and opinions of your own before it’s too late and your existence is rubbed out like one more unsupervised adolescent prank.
We drove by the corn, and it was dead.
We drove by the church, and it was closed for repairs.
We drove off the cliff and never reached a bottom or actual conclusion we could accept.
You’re not Mickey or Minnie Mouse.
You’re not a purple dinosaur.
You’re not the last bastion of hope for humankind even though you may believe otherwise.
We hug empty vessels.
We hug pipes and drums.
We hug billions upon billions of stars to our sunken treasure chests and are never the wiser.