• 1:40 AM, Saturday, May 5, 2012

Killing myself, and everyone else.

You know the feeling, when you put on a brave front for a new dawn and you smile, you act the usual.
You think everything will turn out the usual. Right off the bat and you've hit bullseye.

You talk, you don't exist. For you've elicited a non-existent response for your non-existent entity.
Do you play this farce? Do you hold your pride at gun point? They smash so beautifully on the tiles.

You wonder if you'll continue acting the fool, letting trite reactions roll from your container, smiling when they smile, wondering what's wrong with you if you suddenly turned invisible because they can walk right past, they can get up and leave and you're left with you, and the cold, the empty room.

You chastise yourself because you know from their point of view it's because you're an oddball who won't settle on one personality.
They're scared, they're lazy, they're normal, they won't defy the laws of ubiquitous interaction just for you who don't really matter.

You want to search for someone who stands out and shine together like spangle.
You have so many wants for such an undeserving container, it's downright hilarious.

Then there's the matter of those on the receiving end of your veneration.
You found them! They shine! Attaboy, and they make you so, so warm.

God forbid you trespass your personal law of interaction because you're fucking undeserving.
Least you could do is get your face out of their sight, but you don't think that way.

They wouldn't feel the same level of irritation as the rest of the ubiquitous critters.
They're kind, accepting, the type to bring happiness to others and you fucking smile.

They have the ability to dispel the spell of hatred casted over your soul, and it brings such warmness sometimes you think you may cry right there and then.

But that is precisely why you can't involve them in your shit and you bite your tongue and turn away from edging closer to the sunshine.
The sunshine you've so dearly lusted, the warmness that fills up little gaps from all over, the scabs that're nothing but faded remnants.

However, on this day.
On this rotten, foul day.

You couldn't help but will yourself to talk to them because you've seen them exhibit altruism the day before, specifically to you, and you can't come to grips that you're too damn self-centered to even try reaching out that you're driven to do something to break out of your shell. You don't know if they were being courteous in their own way or if they were genuinely not turned off by someone of your likes, but you grab blindly at something. Anything.

You don't know if you're over-analyzing but you like to think they are interested in you yourself.
You like the thought, you beam at them, you hope this time everything will work out just fine.

A message, a game, a connection.
You hope you'll one day be deserving.