(no subject)
It's lonely when you realize that you're the only person you really know. I live in a city with thousands of other people. I can even see into some of their living rooms across the street but they will never know me. They will never know that I've been sitting in the same place all day or that I've been watching the flowers my client gave me last week dying five feet in front of me. That I'm too lazy or something to just throw them out. Sometimes I just feel too sentimental towards objects. Like the stuffed animal my dad gave me for my birthday on Tuesday. The first stuffed animal he has ever bought me in my life... For my 23rd birthday. I left it stuffed in a bag until 1am Wednesday morning until I got out of bed ridden by the guilt of leaving it unattended. No one knows I do things like that in the middle of the night. I guess I like living alone but I'm afraid that one day I'll wake up and realize I've been fooling myself into believing that I have enough outside of my apartment to make up for how much time I spend alone. I look across the street and I can't help but wonder if those people are happy with their own 400 square feet or if we are all just alone wishing for more from other people.