Debbie's Little Lamb

It has become a constant struggle to remind myself that I am human, someone in the world that has valid thoughts and feelings... the obnoxious daily mantra, "I am real, I am real...". It's an awkward situation, thick and dripping with irony... absence from the world causes disassociation, yet mingling with the people induces reticule and shame resulting in, you guessed it, disassociation.I've become the town's walking freak show... "there's that guy again, fucking nut bag!". Though the worlds may differ, the sentiment is the same... the shifting glances, children pointing and starring, the egotistical, wealthy and righteous teenagers laughing. One of the downsides to living in a small town... not to mention a stuck-up, wealthy town. My economic worth is already a symbol branded in my flesh... the lowly and indigent, the cesspool of filth and muck not fitting for such delicate features. Bitter? Me? No, I'm just tired of fighting myself and society to find a wee bit of self-worth... just a fucking scrap man, let me have that at least. The few people in town that know me by name and have taken the time to look upon me with non-judging eyes, see me as a good man... this is equally disturbing I suppose. How fucked up is that? They've seen me opening doors for the elderly and for the women in general, helping people with their packages and satchels, and always using please and thank you during any exchange... always followed by "Have a nice day", in closing. What kind of person doesn't say "please" and "thank you", let alone open a door for a woman? That qualifies me as a good man? I don't get it... people confuse me. Truth be told, there is just no winning situation. If I'm shamed or shunned, I lose... if I'm looked upon as a good person, I lose. "You're a special piece of fucking shit, and God has mighty plans for your ugly, worthless ass!"... I get it, I do.