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I honestly can’t tell how I feel. Out of place, out of time, out of proportion, above all sad, at times like a lamb cornered by a pack of wolves, deeply humble and in awe of all the sensations lately. Proud of myself is one way I don’t feel-rather ashamed that it took me so long to dare leave my comfort zone. Not that it was much of a comfort-it just felt still and secure which is often confused with good life. But good life isn’t one and the same as proper life, is it? People are indeed a disgraceful species-they have been given the gift of thinking and the emotional capacity for compassion and yet they choose not to use them. What a pitiful waste of potential.   It sickens me to watch people self-absorbingly wallowing in their private precious puddles of complacency blissfully unaware of anything around. How can that be enough for anyone? OK, no one’s perfect and I’m not the one to judge (not that anyone is) but what the hell happened to the gene of kindness, of good will, of empathy? It seems to me that humans no longer remember how to be humans.