Love, in the romantic sense-
What the hell do I know about it?
I know that I think that having it would somehow make me feel accepted and needed, that somehow, that connection with another human being would restore my faith in humanity.
I know that almost everyone seeks it, many find it, and that everyone who truly has it seems very happy with life.
I know that every song you hear, every book you read, every T.V. show you watch, every commercial you encounter conveys it to everyone.
But this knowledge helps me very little.
How can I, a robotic personality fit into whatever mold is the newest and the strangest, the one who doesn't feel enough for their family, the one who barely functions in society, hope to find love?
Can I even love?
Why do I even need it, anyways? I am alive and decently well without it.
But it's everywhere.
Those who have it seem all the better, and everyone's seeking it.
Is their love for me?
For someone who gleefully ignores her neighbors, yet cries at the loneliness she shouldn't be feeling, but does?
For the rhetorical know-it-all who doesn't know enough to be accepted as a true scholar?
For the one who preaches happiness, yet spends most of her days with a scowl?
For the one who bites their tongue until it bleeds, but when they speak, it's a dagger to someone's throat?
For the idiot who had all the friends in the world, yet cannot bring herself to have any deep friendship with many of them?
Why do I care so much?
I am not built to be in a people's world. This I have known since I was a young child.
There's a reason they put me in different classrooms when I was young.
There's a reason most fear me.
There's a reason I am alienated by my peers.
No, I am not built for a people's world. I was meant to live solely on words and music, of nature and animals.
So why, I ask of me, do I long to be "loved"?
What good can others do me?
Maybe this love thing can prove me wrong.
Maybe I can find someone to awaken my body, to revive my soul, to reveal my heart.
Maybe I'll have more to contribute to society than one-line gestures and poetic nonsense written in styles no real person can comprehend.
Maybe there's someone out their who is as tried of this social conformity, of all of the bullshit standards, the unjust measurements, the cruel, unfeeling brainwashing as I am.
Maybe we can be inappropriate together.
Maybe we can stick up a nice middle finger at the world's expectations together.
Maybe-
but what are the chances?
What can I give to another person that will help them?
That will truly improve their lives and well-being?
What do others want, anyways?
Do you want to be flattered?
Do you want truth?
Do you want company?
Do you want freedom?
Who knows?
Maybe I'm just not cut out for a person's world.
Maybe I wish I was.
Maybe I'm glad I'm not.
Who knows, really?
I do not even know. How is anyone else, then, to know?
Love, in the romantic sense-
What a load of bullshit.
What a load of bullshit that I'd give my world to be able to truly believe for one whole second.
-RazzberryWerewolfPoet- Community Member |
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