Elucidating Questions

I had a dream

There were people all around and some kind of event with my family

We were all excited to go together

It was fun

Then I was busing home

And the bus driver didn’t wait for a passenger

As we drove away she jumped off the bridge

As I was receiving instructions

The alarm went off

And I sat up and realised

There hadn’t been anyone around

They hadn’t been there

In my dream I’d been talking to nothing

No one

Empty space

How it had felt

Was all fake

And there was no one on the phone

So I cried alone

Because I can’t even dream people anymore

Someday if only I’ll wake up and life would have been a dream

Watching out the window as someone jumps

And wishing I had the courage to do so myself

I don’t know what I’m afraid of

Perhaps it’s everything

Perhaps I’m afraid it just ends because

I would be accepting just how useless awful meaningless pointless my existence is

Because what if it’s a revolution and I have to start again?

Because what if there’s a heaven and I’ll get to find out that’s not where I belong

I’d probably wake up and be right back where I am now

Back in the light of the day I

Think of what my day is going to be like

And I cry

Just as I cried myself to sleep

I don’t want this life

This life is pointless

I’m lonely

I have no purpose I have no ambitions I have nothing

And this?

This whatever it is doesn’t help me it just sits here reminding me how much of a disappointment I am my life is

I wish I could stop

Waking

Writing

Breathing

Everything

I just

I wish it was the end every night and then I wake up and I realise

I don’t want to

It echoes

Tonight?

Alone.

Tonight?

Alone.

Radio silence or I suppose

Just silence in general

Tonight?

Alone.

With the rain pouring down doing my nightly thing

Lonely

That is, begging to just go to sleep

Just go to sleep.

And that’s the end.

Is there a possibility I just wouldn’t even

Be able to find a better tomorrow because I’m too selfish and awful

Of course there is

Within every probability there is an infinitesimal chance of complete and utter failure

You say I’m a pessimist and you’re the realist but math says otherwise apparently

There’s literally always a possibility of something going wrong horribly, creatively, or, alternatively, spectacularly.

I can’t find where I belong because I don’t remember what it feels like to belong.

I don’t know how.

Why don’t I ever heal?

Why does it just lie like an open wound waiting for something to infect it?

Why am I still making a fool of myself over some dude I’ve never met and crying myself to sleep over him and some dude who just wants to fuck me once a month and then put me back in my cage?

Waxing disgusting poetic bullshit

Looking like an idiot

I wish I’d never started writing

I love you I love you I love you

But what does that cause?

What does that mean?

Is it the moments you’re nowhere to be seen

But your presence is real

Or the mornings I wake up and turn to find some no one beside me who isn’t right and the night quietly vibrates its lies of harmony and togetherness

Is it

Not Mike on the bus making me think about how it would be so awful if I ever had to be trapped on a bus with you with nothing to say

Who rides the bus anyways?

Is it the pieces of songs that sing sung throughout the day as if a unhearable status update on my condition

Or the moments I yearn to have you close so I can tug on your hair and say

PRETTY

In the way a toddler might

Or how I don’t quite know what to say how to define it

Finding dropped beats in places I shouldn’t be

Is it how I haven’t cried because I’ve been able to hide for the past few days?

And why?

When before it tormented me like nothing and I had erased most of them and I just had to hear a Masterpiece

At which point I crossed my heart and hoped to die

That you’d understand

This is how I run to you

Every time.

Is there even someone who could save me from this ever growing hole?

That I’m complaining about my stupidity naivete

Doesn’t surprise me

After all it’s all we ever can do

Shadowed in the actions made by someone who isn’t even me anymore

And even if I could make it work why would I?

After all it’s all I ever don’t do right

Make it work

Is that laughter or something sinister?

The reverberating sounds of the question asked and answered.

What am I doing here?

I don’t know where I was supposed to be

But it’s not here

Am I lost if I was never found to begin with?

Whatever it is

Whatever it is

It is worth more than what could be expressed

In any way human

There is no measure of value that doesn’t relate incorrectly

That no matter how much it hurts

I know that it’s what came from where it does

And there’s nothing I can do for my mistakes

If even even is even

Then I suppose that’s that

I can’t fault such a thought

I’m only concerned for reasons that don’t make sense but

If you get nervous

I hope you get her