Y2 D265

Ironically suicide rates don't increase on Valentine's Day. Surprising. Turns out the biggest spike in the holiday comes on New Years. Regardless, yesterday was not spiffy for me. I am tired of this. I was okay most of the day but the last hour or so it was rough. Too much time thinking about all the people who were out having dinners, drinks, received cards, flowers, gifts, expressions of love, having sex later. Even the one night stands. Even they were having a better time of it than me. They might not like themselves this morning, but right then they were pretty happy or at least some semblance of happiness. Then I started thinking about what X2 is doing. I know I shouldn't be thinking about that, but what else is there to think about? I think about the other things and that gets too fucking scary.

Fuck it.

It's time I woke up and stopped lying to myself. stopped kidding myself about things. I am old and irrelevant. I can try to put a happy face on things but the truth is I don't matter. I really don't; not in the sense that I need. Of course I matter to my daughter but that's unconditional and is there no matter what. I mean in the other way. I don't matter. I try. I try hard to fit in and play nice and be part of things, but at the end of the day, I am alone because I am still the square peg trying to fit in a round hole. I am old, fading away. I am too old to be of any use other than an oddity to be taken out and looked at by the people I associate with regularly. I act too weird for the people of my own generation to even understand. I shouldn't use the word act. I am just too weird, period. I don't fit in their world either. So instead of trying to fit any more, just accept. Just accept that the future holds nothing for me. That I am alone and will probably be alone. That I can try to play in their worlds but at the end of the day, they don't see me as an equal or even as part of their world or as someone they can spend time with in a deeper way. No. I am a wasted life. I can't get it back either. I can't suddenly change things so that I fit in one world or the other. I have to just accept.

The easiest thing to do is hide again. Hide behind the bottle. Hide in the shadows. Just shut up and don't make any waves. Drink myself to death slowly and privately. Burden no one. I have to be smart about it though. I won't take anyone with me but me. Hide the keys. Just come home at night, drink myself into oblivion until the liver goes, then the brain. But on the surface I will have to go to work and be good. I can do it. I have done it before, I can do it again. I won't miss my commitments or my obligations, but I also can't keep pretending that I am wanted or truly part of anything. I am the freak. The oddity. The old fuck. The creepy guy. The pervert. The dirty old man. The uncouth drunkard. The idiot. The fool. I am bald, old, and a shadow of anything that I might have once been.

I leave you with this:
A man lies in his bed in a room with no door
He waits, hoping for a presence or something, anything to enter
After spending half his life searching
He still felt as blank as the ceiling at which he stared
He is alive, but feels absolutely nothing, so is he?

When he was six, he believed that the moon overhead followed him
By nine, he deciphered the illusion, trading magic for fact, no trade-backs
So this is what it's like to be an adult?
If he only knew now what he knew then

Lying sideways atop crumpled sheets and no covers
He decides to dream...Dream up a new self...For himself