Wondering

My buddy and I in an undated photograph, est 2000.

I’ve come to realize that I’ll never be culturally refined.

Nor to the fact that I’ll never be termed as a ‘good-looking’ guy.

I too lack eloquence in my conversational speech and I am quite a bore to talk to, unless of course one’s to delve into my more erratic and odd topics.

I may never have great fashion skills nor will I ever possibly look good in clothes.

I am in every way the total opposite of what women would possibly want in a man.

I lack excitement, I lack sexual presence, I also lack in terms of masculinity.

I believe that the only good qualities I have are those locked inside my extremely introverted mind and no one has ever seen it in actuality. Some may claim to have seen it but I would say that it was only a glimpse of what I am.

I’ve been a textbook study introvert, an extremely happy-go-lucky guy, a very lonely and desperate individual as well as being depressed to an unfathomable degree. I have experienced every sort of range of friends one can every hope for. From the one’s who are sexually obsessed with everything to the one’s only true pursuit is the pursuit of knowledge. I’ve made friend’s from poor families, as well as those from extremely well-off one’s. I’ve participated in the roughest and crudest of dialog and have occasionally participated in higher leveled socio-political debates with my peers.

I’ve been alone all this while…

And probably will stay like this for quite sometime.

The world in many ways intrigues me as to the wonders it hides in every corner of its being…Yet this same world scares me to an unspeakable point that I too am sadden by the state of which I find it.

I have only wished for so long to be with someone.

Ironically that someone turned out to be myself.

I could be cynical about this and perhaps be nihilistic about this but I wont.

I have yet a lot to learn about myself and will probably never fully understand.

I only wished that in those days of final struggles, I really wondered how it would have turned out had I won…

Would my life have turned out differently than the life I currently possess?

Would it be possible then to not have fallen into those traits as I’ve mentioned above?

Am I that wretched?

Am I that pathetic?

Do I instill the feelings of hatred and animosity in all those that see me?

Do I speak in such a manner that offends and creates mortal enemies from everyone I meet?

Am I fake? Do I act fake? Do I seem fake? Do I seem like someone who’s trying his darndest to just be nice?

What am I?

I need not ask who but more of what.

What am I?

Where will this path I am on take me?

Will I find someone whom will take a chance with me?

My picture of perfection does still exist. In many ways, I firmly believe that the time for possibilities have ended.

I’d rather be alone than be with someone whom I cannot love. Though some may claim that love grows over time, needless to say that if that were the case, there would never be divorces nor couples drifting apart.

I miss her.

Yet I dont.

I miss my fantasy.

Yet I know I must not.

I miss the endless possibilities.

Yet I must focus on what’s at hand.

I dream of being with her.

But I know too well of the distance.

I pray and hope for a miracle.

But miracles only happen in fairy tales.

I work and claim to be a better person.

But I know deep down that perhaps I am not.

Perhaps I am not.

Perhaps I am not.

Simply because if I were not, I would not be in the position I find myself in now.

And that, is the great mystery.

Getting older, losing my time.

Getting older, losing my mind.

Getting older, losing my chime.

Getting older, closer to my demise.