Free-writing loneliness

Five-forty-ish, and there's only one person on the third row of computers, headphones and personal effects. And I've gotten used to it, really, and since that's the case I don't have to push the fact that I'm always the last one to leave because my shift's the last to end. That's how I wanted it to be, because that's the most convenient for me, considering that I live more kilometers south than the rest of them.

And I can afford myself some luxuries, perhaps writing stuff, like what I'm doing right now. I don't really have to care about walking so fast or having an illicit relationship with my keyboard, and nobody will have to wonder about why I'm so... quirky. And quirky's got a pretty straightforward definition: "strikingly unconventional," and that always depends on what is considered conventional.

It's always around five-ish when I wave goodbye to at most four people, depending on my mood swings, my work load, or my (dis)engagement. Nevertheless I never bother anymore with finding out why third attempts ever happen, or why I can act so weird when I feel extraordinarily lonely. And I've complained about that loneliness, and I've never done anything about that loneliness, choosing instead to just stand up and walk in my usual manner, saying, "I hate to leave you alone."

I wonder if anybody ever said that to somebody.

"I hate to leave you alone."

Because we eventually have to. And then everything comes to view. You won't grow as a person crap, you won't learn many things crap, you won't know how it feels to be like everybody else crap, crap, crap, and everything else that perfectly fits the bill for an excuse. That's why I've gotten used to it. I'm not expecting anything because that's where we're placed. If not, then perhaps I was already the victim of a hit-and-run "accident."

Which makes me scared of tomorrow, and all the ideas with homogeneity and common factors, and why despite the common things that we all supposedly have, I feel so alone in my position, on the left field, and perhaps forever there. So I'll be walking under the hot sun without my earphones on, trying my best to just be what the world expects of me - connecting. But I'll only go through the meal, the obligatory photo, and the awkward invitations that I've been thinking for the past eight weeks, making sure the timing is right, and making sure nothing goes wrong.

I shouldn't worry, then. I'm used to being alone anyway.

And your responses...

"i hate to leave you alone"

tss. big lie. big big lie.

nang-iiwan lahat ng tao. its just a matter of WHEN

Anonymous Anonymous9/05/2008     

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