UNTITLED, (No Name)

"I’m Nobody! Who are you?
Are you – Nobody – too?
Then there’s a pair of us!"
- Emily Dickinson

I don't have any friends, and sometimes I'm lonely and sometimes I'm not. Sometimes I think about spending time at Gus' Breadsticks with someone from class, or studying with a small group of people at the library across the block, or going to the mall's movie theater with someone I like and watching as many movies as we can sit through in a row...but then I'm pulled back into my own head, and the hard hard walls that I never let anyone crack through. It's why I shut down, and why, when I'm in class, I just shut up. I'm a loner; my body may be in class, but my mind is off somewhere else, so it's just a loaner - I come back for it at the end of the day, and go home without ever really talking to anyone. Then I keep to myself for the rest of the afternoon and wash my mind out after seeing friends hanging out with each other for most of the day, knowing that I’m going to have to see it again the next day; rinse and repeat until the feelings go away.

Sometimes I think that it’s maybe because I come off like a jerk. But I’m not a jerk, I’m just quiet – it’s kind of funny how that’s considered the same thing. I think people avoid me; I know some teachers do, the ones who don’t talk down to me like I have learning problems, and I think the students do too. See, I don’t think people like it if you’re quiet, because it makes it harder for them to know what you’re all about. If you can fake a smile around people, or maybe make some stupid joke that you don’t really find funny but say anyway to get other people’s attention, then that’s something everyone can relate to because everyone does it. Everyone fakes. I don’t think people like it if you only talk when you have something to say, though. They expect you to talk so much, even if there’s nothing you want to add or nothing on your mind, and I just can’t do that. They always tell you to talk with your group or engage in discussions, but I just don’t see the point if you don’t have anything to say. Maybe if I could fake it better, I would meet more people – then the fake-me would be friends with the fake-them, and both of us would still be lonely.

Sometimes I think that it’s maybe because I’m not interested in a lot of the other stuff that interests other people. Everyone likes to talk about their futures, or their goals and their plans. They like to worry about things that no one has any business worrying about, and they like to talk about everything with such certainty. Sometimes it feels like everyone around me is sprinting in a race I’m walking, and it feels like I am always left behind – I don’t feel as smart as everyone else in my classes, I don’t feel as well-rounded or sophisticated, and I don’t feel like I have as much skill sets as they do to handle the future. It makes me feel bad, only until I am sitting by myself at home, drawing or writing and just enjoying the emptiness of it all – killing time for no other reason than I have time to kill. Why is everyone in such a god-damn hurry? A little arrested development never killed anybody.

Sometimes I think that it’s maybe because I don't want friends, or don't need them. Sometimes I get angry. It's easy to think that you're better off on you're own, when listening to music on a hot summer walk, letting the lyrics trick you into hating the world. But then the song ends, and you turn to walk home, and start hating yourself instead for all the years you spent not talking to more people or making for more friends. Then comes, "fuck, my parents are right", "fuck, all those teachers are right", and, "fuck, what have I been doing with my life?" then the next song starts, and you're back inside your own head - distracting daydreams. Ain't nobody a loser when they have Kanye West blasting in their ears, making them feel invincible.

Then, sometimes I think that it's maybe because I spend too much time living in a fantasy. But without the distraction, it hurts. It takes me away when I write or draw, but then I'm just left with a pile of papers. Nobody cares about the things I've expressed, and it tears me up inside because I'm too invisible to everyone for them to see that I can sometimes be depressed. I'm not strong enough to deal with it on my own, so it goes repressed - locked up inside my head so nothing goes addressed. I'm rhyming now because it makes it easier for me to type...such is life. It's hard to deal with reality on its own terms, and so it's a lonely life.

Then other times I just think that maybe it’s the fate of the world; maybe some people are just destined to be popular and have friends, and for others there exists always a wall. It’s a tall wall, to be sure, and thick; like all walls, however, it protects just as much as it harms, and so whenever I sink into my own head and enjoy my own company, I forget about friends and other people, and rest in peace on the other side of the wall. Do I still want a friend someday? Yeah. But I don't let it ruin my life. I think there is a lot to learn from being friends with yourself, and from exploring your own head. So I'll continue to only talk when I have something to say, and I'll continue to be myself instead of faking it around others, because I know someday I will meet someone who likes me for that alone. It'll happen.