Just a Bunch of Words

It’s like all of my insecurities are rippling throughout my mind, pulling me down; deep into darkness, drowning me in doubt, and fear, and anguish. I’m angry; I’m upset, confused, hurt, and quite frankly dumbfounded. I try my hardest to be the best. I strive to be everything everyone sees in me. I want to be that guy. More importantly, I don’t want to be alone. I’m tired of alone. I’m tired of staying up late, laughing at corny movies by myself as I have to take solace in smoking or slamming another shot. I’m tired of going out with my friends, and sitting in the background as they all joke and converse in idle talk. While hiding from my own hypocrisy because I am just a part of the same uncultivated commonality. Sitting alone, searching for purpose in an empty glass, perfectly perched on the surface of the bar across the room as a smile emerges. a cascading shine in an otherwise dark and desolate location. Resisting the urge to connect, my ego shields me with fear of rejection.  For what can I offer? A joke— Or a gesture, something to surely break the ice, almost like an overweight penguin. But no! fear keeps me at bay, in attendance with the empty glass at hand. She can wait. Sex can wait. Happiness can wait. I need to find the true answer, if not then what is the point of this? Time makes itself relevant again and the bar is no longer packed with depraved wolves and intoxicated sheep. I can hear myself think now, which is a good thing. The smile is closer than before. I could say something. I won’t. No, not now. Not tonight. Not ever. Destiny does not work that way, not in my experience at least. I don’t know what else to call it; perte de passion. Chivalry has been eradicated and buried alongside devotion and ecstasy. Relationships are scarce and seldom last. Partnerships are plagued with betrayal and infidelity. It’s as if Cupid has receded into the shadows, surrendering to us his arsenal of adoration armed arrows to cosign in to oblivion. And we humans over-humorously obey and honor this pathetic patriarchal role and place blame based on races, sex, religion, and ages. We’re an ageless look in a pageless book. The uncharted, unexplained, unexplored, and undiscovered. A finite part of infinity. The cognitive conscious consideration of what we can see and the probable and plausible possibilities of what it is to be. We are. I am. One.