Dream
I was in a cafe late at night. There wern't alot of people around. But there was a man sitting in the corner table reading a newspaper. He came over and sat down across from me. He leaned over the table I was sitting at and looked directly into my eyes. I could see the pain in his face as he was trying to find the words. He looked away and sighed deeply. He spoke quickly and quietly. He handed me a peice of paper and a war medal. I looked at the medal, it was a purple heart. He looked at it and smiled. He shook his head, said, "fuck it," got up and left the table without looking back. I read the peice of paper. It was barely readable.
"This may come as a relief to you... you will always be alone. Crowded rooms, busy streets, it doesn't matter. You'll wake up every day and go to sleep the exact same way. The years will pass and you'll see your body slowly showing the age of time. Be assured, all relationships are short lived. If you're not immediately distracted, you'll find yourself filled with contempt, either real or imagined, soon enough. You've seen too much. You know the wrong things. Experience is a well dressed curse. The higher power has a price. The price is the silence of the truth. The ghosts never leave and the echoes never die down. They know you better than anyone ever will. Untill you stop fighting your life, you'll pass the nights looking for someone else to share your isolation with. You'll never meet your equal because you don't have one. You are damaged. It's the scars that keep you from ever getting away from what you know, what you are. The sooner you learn to accept this the better. The time passes easier, you stop tormenting yourself. It feels like there's no one who understands except other people like us, ones who are damned and know it. You always walk through it alone. This is life's sickness. This is the joke life plays on us. I know you know all this shit. I'm dragging this motherfucker all the way down the drain. Fuck it."
I left the note and the medal on the table and walked out of the cafe. Move on. Live through it. Watch the seasons. Walk the miles. Survive the time.
"This may come as a relief to you... you will always be alone. Crowded rooms, busy streets, it doesn't matter. You'll wake up every day and go to sleep the exact same way. The years will pass and you'll see your body slowly showing the age of time. Be assured, all relationships are short lived. If you're not immediately distracted, you'll find yourself filled with contempt, either real or imagined, soon enough. You've seen too much. You know the wrong things. Experience is a well dressed curse. The higher power has a price. The price is the silence of the truth. The ghosts never leave and the echoes never die down. They know you better than anyone ever will. Untill you stop fighting your life, you'll pass the nights looking for someone else to share your isolation with. You'll never meet your equal because you don't have one. You are damaged. It's the scars that keep you from ever getting away from what you know, what you are. The sooner you learn to accept this the better. The time passes easier, you stop tormenting yourself. It feels like there's no one who understands except other people like us, ones who are damned and know it. You always walk through it alone. This is life's sickness. This is the joke life plays on us. I know you know all this shit. I'm dragging this motherfucker all the way down the drain. Fuck it."
I left the note and the medal on the table and walked out of the cafe. Move on. Live through it. Watch the seasons. Walk the miles. Survive the time.