Confinement

I am a solitary creature.  She says with a smirk.  That's a pretty final statement.  solid.  heavy.  Pretty fucking true.  'No one ever did anything of note alone.'  Really?  The few people that could stand in their own yet not of the time that I truly adore and admire were all solemn in sordid solitary.

Who do I listen to?
My hatred for all wins out so frequently...should i be worried?  and why?  call me abnormal or absurd...

Perhaps I'm not evolved as once thought.  Me mE and me and alone of course.  Not said with sadness.

Then something kicks in and I'm a mess.  I am not a bar person anymore.  Never really was.  Meeting people in those environments is badnews bears.  So.  Extra-curricular.  Volunteer work.  I don't want it to sound douche-like but that warms my heart to think of it.  Meeting others would be a bonus?  Still undecided on that one.  Why am I afraid to meet people?  Am I really so lost in the negativity of what that means.  Well, could potentially mean.

What is an alcoholic?  Truly.  I know when I see it.  I suppose it's a variety of things, really.

(It creeps me out knowing that at any moment someone could come through the door and then sleep in the same bed as me...it kind of bizarrely blows my mind.)

How do i get fully comfortable around someone!  ...and not just to be a total bitch about it?!

Right, right...alcoholism.

I think death is necessary.  That sounds silly.  Of course it is.  I just seem to find death easier to tolerate thinking of it in this manner.  We spend our whole lives trying to figure out how to minimize the nasty and nurture the rest.  It's all nasty.  Things.  things are like death.  Little tombs we build up and around until one day we're sick and old and need to perish.  I miss people that have died.  Don't get me wrong.

I don't want to get to know his friends.  Sure you can be friendly with them but it never really gets any deeper.  How can it?  You haven't put in the time and here you are sticking your face into a hand-picked family, expecting to be let in.  Comfort around one another grows but nothing real is ever really shared.

Even when it is, it isn't.