It was me on that road

Boring and difficult

Too many friends out

And none were here, full

What you see is more and more people lowering their threshold for business and discomfort

Whats get in so mad

The door, let in

My need you

Push comin shove

Never listen the way

Wishin for a script

Do i feel lonely?

Im afraid to say anything because now the internet is a panopticon. I guess its always been that way. I used to journal religiously on paper, but i started to say literally the same sentence over and over. My outlet for feeling isolated became a chore to find words that didnt prove my reason for isolation.

I eulogized a friend once. The pastor at the funeral left it open to the congregation(?) to say some words, and i came up with a speech in under a minute, completely impromptu. I think im pretty good at tempering words to what the audience needs to hear, you can imagine what that audience at a funeral is like. My 8th grade english teacher was seated next to me, she said i did a good job. It felt very cathartic.

I feel, now, at this point in life, writing is what i can do. In a way, it feels like the only thing. I need it, maybe it needs me. Ive grown out of romantic thinking, but writing is a way of recreating what feels good.

Being good at something can put you in a class of your own, it can make you a lone party to your success. Im not the best at writing, but im the best at having my voice. I like that. I like very few things now. The lonely feelings return with that thought.

He is special, he is special to me. But we are arrows facing an impossible vertex with our words most of the time. Text is different than saying it out loud, to each other. I cant expect someone to always understand me; personal conversations are too specific for total understanding. That kind of empathy can only be achieved through the audience.

Satisfies nothing