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A Confession

It comes to mind ever so often as to why she didn’t call. She said would, whenever she had nothing to do that lunch time, or any day she was free to have lunch. But since almost three weeks have past, it seems to me that she doesn’t really care much about the outing as much as I do, for it was then when I would have told her. Or was it because of my attitude that my body came first and then friends. I must confess, I am a mental about bodybuilding, nutrition, and the lot. I’ve heard she loves guys who are ripped to shreds. But I pump that iron because I love the feeling, and in no way or how was to try to influence another in trying to seduce me. People get impressed if they so feel so the right to do so. I honestly don’t know what to say, other than the fact that I know I will leave without saying goodbye to most of my peers here. I’ll miss them all, but most of all, I’ll miss her. I’ve walked her home on numerous occasions, and it just seemed that she wanted to know that someone was there with her, like all those other times, when she was partying, drinking, smoking, and what ever else she may have fancied, for times I wasn’t there. She just never took notice. But whenever we met, she always had her sister there with her, and asked her to leave, but why? Did she not want any affiliation made with me and her? Not any slight gestures to be seen between me and her to give others any indication? But there were none…. So what was the point? Why do I still love her? Why do I stare down at my cell phone every now and then to see if I had received a text, missed a call, or if she was calling. I just will never understand some. And it is for this reason I remain exclusively elusive, and pay almost no attention to any other. I will notice them, but reluctantly refuse to massage their ego. And so it is said, I will be that other man who will just never have one. I will always be that bachelor with high standards, with dignity, elusiveness, and most of all, class. It is class over greed, dignity over temptations, which will almost always have the hardest of times to prevail. What more can be said is that if any of this were true I would stop writing this and end by saying: true love hurts.

The Encounter

Dawn to dusk, sunshine to rain, warmth to the unforgiving cold, and for every individual that passes by below me, another cloud moves across the sky, each almost unknown to the next. Insubordinate as you are as I am to you, as the person in the room beside you, as they are to the next rain drop that hits the surface of any shape, form, whether still or moving, an initial notice will be taken, and then be left alone. I walk along solitary streets, lamp-post after telephone pole after club and home, un-noticed, I feel it drizzle upon my face. A refreshing feeling indeed it is to continue walking and realise that the enjoyment in experiencing the serenity of silence, coldness, and desire for love. You are almost just that much fulfilled in your conquests, but then it dissipates, leaving you once again to yourself, the cold harsh wind whistling by your ears. You have a tendency to look down as you walk, slowly lift your head to look left, down the street, and right at the building that you’ve past an insurmountable number of times. Yet, for some reason, it’s different when you’re all alone, to yourself, and no matter how hard you try, you will pity yourself, and know that not one other individual experiences life like you, for you are that person that is just another living, thinking, human being passing by along the same street I look down upon. You are that lonely grey cloud above me, and the tranquility you give me when it drizzled as it did, I can only say it was a pleasure meeting you.

My Reality

Another crush…. Regardless as to how many others you have had, you firmly believe she’s better than your previous. Her eyes, her hair, her perfect complexion, and her smile that’ll surely make you respond awkwardly. Love comes and goes, it’s either there or not, regardless if you positively feel you have the greatest desire to the point of a compulsive disorder that you must talk to her, walk her home, if it may be study or work with her, or console her. Consolation if anything would lead to something. Wouldn’t it? Someone to go to, someone you can be attached to on a level where neither a relationship nor any form of acquaintance may so be required. Beautiful it would be if circumstances led to such a situation. But you, as well as I, know that the chances of such an informal acquaintance are one in a million, if not billion. What is more is that not more can sum up your problem. Timid, mysterious, that other guy, you’ve heard them all, but why you? You’ve seen others, like they’d have a shot………that’s definitely crossed your mind. What separates you from them, and them from others, and others from the rest is comparatively the same as to what differentiates you from her. If everyone were the same, your harsh reality would be lived by every individual around you, and if so be the case, then may I welcome you to the world of still being single.

Disgrace

The world you wake up to has a compulsive disorder with everything and everyone. From this to that, and everything in between, nothing is ever enough, however much nothing embodies the next common man’s desires. Look away as much as you like, but there’s always something you will stare at. Why close your eyes to a poor Chinese woman begging, when all around her are wealthy industrialists and businessmen? One can never extract them selves from the cause, but voluntarily add themselves to the solution ceases to exist. We can be as optimistic about this Asian lady, that she will move away from begging, begin working, fend for herself, and live in a decent home. Fascinating how optimism can never be taken for granted. We are optimistic because it’s the only sensible act to be a part of, than apart from. Compulsive optimism will ruin society.

Viewers

When the world isn’t watching, and often doesn’t care to, but would wish at certain times it took notice, reality moves faster than what you can expect to last a life time. Disgrace with humanity and for all the stereotypes for which we are the only culprits for, not one would take responsibility for our assumptions, actions, and inevitably, the outcome that was so distinctly destined to be derived in some form from the very first source of your assumption. Notice now that you are that one, for at any instance, you too cannot distinguish fact from fairytales, truth from stereotypes, or even how much love and equate to sudden hate due to compulsion.