I bet there is a word for that feeling you get when you’re surrounded by people but you still feel alone. Its like you’re a puddle of water running from here to there, diffusing across a surface just trying to find you place, trying to fill in the cracks. But then the sun pokes it’s head and before you know it you’re dried up and gone, and you whole existence was just to water some weeds in between the pavement. Weeds that will be plucked or yanked or sprayed to render your whole being insignificant. I ought to just stop with the whole thing. Skip a whole life of people shoving me down, skip a life of seeing the pain on another person’s face as I let them down. End the memories of chances not taken, or stolen, or failed ones. I might as well join the French Foreign Legion and die in a muddy ditch in some third world country that hates me. That sounds a more pleasant fate than remembering you and what I did to screw it all up every single day of my useless life. But maybe you’ll read this and think that it’s about you and maybe you’ll say to yourself quite guilt-fully “I should talk to him more often or maybe see what’s going on” but I’ll know that’s what you’re doing so I’ll spare you the trouble and say don’t try. Go ahead and cast off your mooring lines, go out with the tide, use the trade winds that blow to fairer seas. Everyone else has anyway.
Your lover’s warm kiss is too damn far from your finger tips. You are the man who ruined her world. Your hearts on the loose, you rolled them sevens with nothing to loose. This ain’t no place for the weary kind.
Don’t you weep pretty babe
Don’t you weep pretty babe
She’s long gone with her red shoes on
Gonna need another loving babe
Go to sleep little babe
Go to sleep little babe
You and me and the devil makes three
Don’t need no other lovin’ babe
Go to sleep little babe
Go to sleep little babe
Come lay bones on the alabaster stones
And be my everlovin baby
I cannot imagine the future, but I care about it. I know I am a part of a story that starts long before I can remember and continues long beyond when anyone will remember me. I sense that I am alive at a time of important change, and I feel a responsibility to make sure that the change comes out well. I plant my acorns knowing that I will never live to harvest the oaks.
I want to have friends that I can trust, that love me for the man I’ve become not the man that I was.
And I want to have friends that let me be all alone when being alone is all that I need.
And I want to fit in to the perfect space, feel natural and safe in a volatile place.
And I want to grow old without the pain, give my body back to the earth and not complain.
I want to have pride like my mother had, and not like the kind in the bible that turns you bad.
It’s something I’ve struggled with all my life
I can wrestle it all day long and finally pin it to the ground
It says
Alright, youve won you’ve beaten me I surrender
So it release and turn to greet my friends
My family
My lover
And it knocks me down and assumes my shape
Or rather invades my conscious and controls me
For I have no defense for this attack
I have no reaction other than just watching as the people I love
Pass by this shapeshifter this invader of my thoughts and actions
I watch them as they pass and throw curses at me and yell and scream and tear and wale and strike at me with their own thoughts and actions and barely noticed glances while passing in a hallway
Which though they are barely noticed, are noticed still and hurt all the more because you think to yourself she thinks that way about me when I can not see her for she averted her eyes at the last moment and if our eyes had not met then I would have lived my entire life with her hating me and I not knowing which would have been a better fate but now that I do know even the chance at a comforting facade has vanished. Even though it would still be a cold cinderblock wall with razor wire and guard dogs around it, at least the wall would be painted sky blue.
And I try and tell them that it is not me who disappointed you, it was beyond my control or I had no control or, or, or,
But my petty attempts at forgiveness are failed because the personification of disappointment taking over my body is too abstract when you’re angry and bitter and hurt and cut deep on the inside and hopeless and the person you’re yelling at seems to give you and answer in gibberish.
So that is why I write my thoughts so maybe one day they will look through my belongings and see this note
And everything would be
Ok.
