People, you think sometimes, are a problem. They make demands. They judge. Sometimes, people suck. Even me. Even you.
Here’s the thing, though: Every person, no matter how unpleasant, has brought some joy to this world. Maybe only the joy of a passer-by glancing through the window where newborns lay (in movies, mostly). Maybe only the joy you feel when you let their resentment roll off your back.
I try to remember that everyone is just me (and I am them). That might sound like hippie talk, but I know some hippies, so it’s cool. You can treat us as separate if you like. You and them, no us. Know that by doing so, you’re keeping something from yourself. Something important.
We all have certain things in common as humans. We are all born. We all die. In between we muddle through as best we can. Even me. Even you.