“We are all in “the perpetual quest for keeping oneself occupied, entertained, and important—which burns at the edge of addiction.” - Jana Richman
I have always thought that my inability to properly interact with people would go away as I grew older. Boy was I wrong.
When I was younger, I thought behaving as the others liked was the only way to make friends. Yes, I had lots of friends when I was younger. And I changed them regularly. Because you see, with each group, with each person, I changed my approach, my outlook and myself.
When I was 16, I thought that enough was enough. I would just stop. People should like the real me. After all, that’s what the media, your loved ones, everyone says, so that must be right, right?
So I became this shy, withdrawn and awkward kid in your high school, who always made the wrong jokes and always spoke in the wrong times. And, almost all the time, I felt hollow.
Well practicing to be true to myself is kind of hard. That’s because I’m not completely sure of the person I am. And self-criticizing me thought, again, that I was the only one with this problem.
Boy was I wrong.
But could you really blame a 16-year-old?
Because everyone was happy. Because everyone seemed like they were enjoying themselves. So why wasn’t I? why couldn’t I just mix in with these people? Why couldn’t I ever stop being repulsed by the ugliness I saw in every one of them and just fucking move on?
I guess I was completely blind to the sheer beauty and light that beheld them.
It didn’t help that my family just about expected these issues to just go away by themselves. No I’m not shifting the blame. It’s important to know and accept your limitations and tell the truth, exact and whole as it is.
Never mind. It’s okay. It’s always going to be better.
Wanting to belong is only human. Some draw others in. Some get drawn in. Some just don’t care.
Well I did meet some people in my school. And even though it was slightly difficult to understand them, they stayed with me and I stayed with them. And it was only in these recent times that I truly grew to care about them. Although I did lose some, because I was careless.
I also feel as if caring about what others think is a huge waste of time. No I’m not trying to sound cool. It’s just…as humans, we’re bound by eternity to creep the bejesus out of each other. That can’t change. And irritatingly we all always find something to get offended and fuss about.
So why smother your existence? The grave is there to do that for you.
Make no mistake. I’m still that shy, withdrawn and awkward kid in your college, who always makes the wrong jokes and always speaks in the wrong times. And, almost all the time, I still feel hollow.
But I blow these worries in a puff of Marlboro and that distinct sadistic pleasure that I’m not alone in this.
Trust me on this one. Some moods and songs are just made for Marlboro.
And honestly, I cannot be bothered to find out who I am. It doesn’t matter anyways.
Well I did meet some people in my college too. It’s difficult to understand them. But I hope I find the ones that will stay. And the ones I’ll stay for. Even though I may lose some again.
Well I’ve never been happy. Not completely anyway. But there are moments, you know.
And I’ve moved on the ugliness that I find in my friends. And that has been surprisingly easy because I find myself loving them more so because of that. As well as the sheer beauty and light that beholds them.
Whatever happens, happens, men and women. And non- binary people.
And other sexes. Don’t care.