I must be really selfish. Maybe it's because I'm not happy. Maybe it's because I'm not really living life to the fullest. Maybe. The fact remains that when it's dark and I'm driving by myself on the freeway taking in the beauty of my world, I cry in silence to a tune only to deny it ever happened come the following day. My life is not a mess. I'm not starving. I'm not poor. Who am I to think, So this is it? Is this what my life is gonna be like for the next few decades?
I love driving through town in the middle of the night with a bit of music to accompany me. And my thoughts. I see people waiting for a bus that never comes. It's raining and I'm warm and dry. So who am I to even dare complain? Why am I so sad? I'm always, always sad, even when I tell the best of jokes. I'm good at telling jokes. I was born that way. People look at me and I see their mouths moving, but I don't hear a thing. I see frustration in their eyes or joy, they smile at me, and I hear myself think, So what? Do you really think it matters?
Either I'm blind or I see too much. I still haven't figured out which one it is.
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|Click on it... the song that somehow always does the trick...|