A Public Lament

I think I'm sitting in the same place you were sitting whatever month that was in [whatever life that was in]-- and for once, I'm not talking figuratively. We had a future ahead of us-- we felt so invincible, however broken we actually may have been. But time has soiled and tainted us, and now- look where we are: you, God knows where, absorbed so much in your own situation that you fail to see how the words you say may actually affect someone else -even me. And me, back in this room, where it appears that broken, mishapen love has become overly laden.

I'm going to be honest with myself, for once: I haven't felt lower in months. Physically or emotionally. I think it's because I'm beginning to create a picture of my own self for the first time- but the problem is: I've created it based on the reflections I cast onto all of you. All of you with your distorted senses and false apprehensions. This reflection reveals that I am selfish, awkward, unattractive, and everything but a good friend. I can hardly disagree with any of these, but the problem occurs when you start to realize these things as well. We were based on other things- better things- but they have become as invisible as I have.

I'm sorry for this invisibility I've taken refuge in--I just find it hard to find a place between who you want me to be and who I don't want to become. It's odd to think that the world is the same it was last time this room was occupied whatever month that was in [whatever life that was in]- it's just the people inside of it that change.

I can't take fault for our ever-changing images of perfection. But somehow, I want to.