Screaming
I've found that sometimes it's easier and arguably more truthful to write about other people's lives than my own. So here goes:
She bounds in the door, hair disheveled and sweatshirt askew. When I call her name she precariously creeps forward into the darkness, squinting in the light. She was unaware that anyone would actually be watching. Behind her trail the hotel heiress and the puppy dog boy, who has recently buzzed his hair (I didn't recognize him). When did this fast friendship form? They probably work because each can be in the others' company without having to really give attention to anyone but themselves. She bends over to give me an awkward and foreign hug, exclaiming "I miss you, I never see you anymore." I try to point to the obvious fact that I am indeed sitting-here-in-a-room-by-myself-on-a-Friday-night-in-the-dark-at-one-in-the-morning, clearly not preoccupied. But she must "put on pajamas" and the puppy dog boy follows. Hotel heiress has already retreated back into herself.
My question is this: Why do you always scream for attention? It seems that even if anyone offers you a hand, questions your motives and your life, it is not enough. Nothing is ever enough. What made you to be this way, constantly screaming, with your fingers jammed in your ears?
We're all so lonely yet not really looking for company.
She bounds in the door, hair disheveled and sweatshirt askew. When I call her name she precariously creeps forward into the darkness, squinting in the light. She was unaware that anyone would actually be watching. Behind her trail the hotel heiress and the puppy dog boy, who has recently buzzed his hair (I didn't recognize him). When did this fast friendship form? They probably work because each can be in the others' company without having to really give attention to anyone but themselves. She bends over to give me an awkward and foreign hug, exclaiming "I miss you, I never see you anymore." I try to point to the obvious fact that I am indeed sitting-here-in-a-room-by-myself-on-a-Friday-night-in-the-dark-at-one-in-the-morning, clearly not preoccupied. But she must "put on pajamas" and the puppy dog boy follows. Hotel heiress has already retreated back into herself.
My question is this: Why do you always scream for attention? It seems that even if anyone offers you a hand, questions your motives and your life, it is not enough. Nothing is ever enough. What made you to be this way, constantly screaming, with your fingers jammed in your ears?
We're all so lonely yet not really looking for company.