Its 5. The sun is rising in this barren desperate state. Lemmings are already out driving to their jobs, under paid. Over worked. And I'm up sobbing...
Tonight I went out for the first time in a while. The clubs around here are about as fun as clipping your toe nails... but because I'm transitioning out of this year long imprisonment, I gotta get my feet wet. I just wish this water wasn't so damn retarded. Like really, how am I supposed to meet someone with substance at a fucking bar when "I'm blue" is being blared at 15000 decibels over some glitched remix of "Poker Face"? Am I supposed to bob my way around this sea of uncoordinated box-fitters, find a girl who isn't sweating or puking and ask "so what's your favorite classical novel?" Psh... I think my calling is to be the wall flower. The observer. I ventured out a few times; I wouldn't call myself unsocial, I just don't consider small talk and pounding my hip bones into some random persons back fun. However, I put some sort of swag together tonight; all black, this rad puffy vest, white forces... pretty much the only reason I walked around head high. Regardless of if I am attractive or not by normal standards, tonight was the best of the best I personally could look. So I had to have some kind of strut. Show my feathers a little.
Even with the best of the best going on on the outside, I still sat down for the most of the time. I was force fed liquor because I dont drink and 'you gotta get drunk when you go out'. The entire time, sitting on the couch, sometimes all by myself, there was always a consistent amount of girls around me. Dancing, rubbing each other, pouring alcohol every where... (The three elaborate facets to a drunk chick)... I couldn't rock my head without hitting an ass cheek. And for some reason, I didn't have much of a desire to approach any of them. Not one. So I just sat , got rape drunk and sat. I laughed for a while. Looking around at the little clusters of smiles and straws and grabbing. Seeing guys act like they are magnetized by a stereotypical archetype of "the girl you want to tell your friends about tomorrow". Blind animals.
Sad part is that I still go to these places looking. And I know damn well I dont want anything to do with anyone I meet at a bar with a short skirt who caught my eye when I was plastered. Thats not me. Yet I still look. Like I need that validation that my all black was on point. ( which, I did have a chick tell me she was going to borrow my hat later- to which I responded with a 'o ya totally' and that went awsomely...) Or that reassurance that my smile is cute or that I'm not that short or whatever... WHY DO I GO TO A BAR FOR THAT?
The reason I'm crying is because I'm just damn lonely. And it gets worse when I go out to the places your supposed to meet someone and all I find are reasons why I wouldn't meet someone there. I'm looking for someone who can show me what real love feels like, not someone who can repeat everything thats already happened to me. To be honest, I dont even know what love is. At all. I've wrote about it for so long but look at me, I'm sitting on what... 5 or 4 or I dont even know which of them should even be counted as relationships but ALL of them have failed. All of them have been deceptive. All of them have included me being shattered and losing bits of myself that I still can't seem to find.
Why can't there be a magical playground where romantics can frolic under clear night skies, with music that turns up when the moments right, and where the only questions aloud are ones that matter?
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