All reasoning escapes me... if this is the HU-Man experience, then I am failing miserably. More than feeling, we are here to learn and understand these feelings... the fire burns intensely, but the flickered dance goes without meaning. I guess the only small comfort is that I am not alone in this failure... the world is filled with countless drones that feel nothing at all. Placing one foot before the other, webbed in glass and ash... at least I have the vibrations. I see people complain about not having contact with other people... branded beast and isolated from the world. Yet, when you try to encourage them or reach out, they snub you like a diseased leper... champagne taste with a penny sized purse. Maybe they are alone because they feel they are too fucking good for anyone else... my outlook is the opposite, never worthy of another.
"Jarhead" had a birthday recently. Still unable to process the previous encounter, I decided to once again speak with him... an experiment to gather knowledge and biscuits. I didn't wish to relive the terrors of yesterday, so I simply wished him a "Happy Birthday", told him I thought of him often and that he will always have a special place in my heart and life... an empty home is better than no home at all. Within two days, he responded in kind... flashes of broken fingernails clawing at the pavement. He told me that he loved me and that I have no idea how much those words meant to him... press firmly, insert and twist. Of course this didn't bode well with the choir and they have refortified the city gates. The vibrations were overwhelming and all of those those thought and images I was desperately trying to evade came rushing in for the assault. This experiment has brought about more questions and confusion... all of the little children singing, "Jesus Loves Me". Why is it that people from the past remember me well and the current people discard me like a soiled whore? I was less of a person years ago... filled with rage, abusing and using everyone for my pleasure and thirst. Maybe that is the way people think... when someone has been removed from their life, they remember fond moments and build sand castles with them. I haven't seen many of my tormentors in a great many years, but I remember them well. Even though I am not consumed with hatred towards them, I wouldn't greet them with open arms. I wouldn't greet them at all... out of sight, out of mind. I tell myself and others often that the world is full of heartless robots, clawing and ripping at each other for domination. Perhaps we are all robots, myself included... it's just that I am broken and in need of repair.
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