“I think I love you.” She spoke blushing. Idiot. 

They still don’t get it. “You still don’t get it, do you?” How can I explain this any more clearly? How do you explain it any more bluntly than a thousand stories about a person that is no longer there? It’s a conversation with a three-part purpose-

1- I have a thing for the thing. I’m not saying it’s not you, but it’s probably not you. There is no figurative or literal silver lining in your eyes. Some who don’t pay close enough attention say the colour I am looking for is grey. What little imagination you have to not see the sparkle. Yet a smile that stretches across to reveal just enough teeth to suggest there is something not said is more my cup of tea- A walking enigma. I’m looking for somewhere to get lost, where the answer to every question just leads to more questions. A rabbit-hole so deep and complex (like the labyrinth of an ants nest) that I never want to leave. Oh, if only you could see what I see.

2- I am human, I understand your suffering. Like…I geddit. It’s cool. Just vibe with me. I’ve seen some shit too.

3- This is small talk. It’s the most basic human-ing we are putting under the microscope, I don’t really want to tell you what’s on my mind. A thousand stories to hide the one thing very literally staring you in the face. What’s the one lie I tell everyone, every day? A smile stretched ear-to-ear (with that all-important upper cheek involvement).

Don’t get me wrong. The smile is real. It’s just eighty percent of the time it’s not because of what is happening right in front of me.

Quick! Think of a happy memory…and boom!

It’s a half-truth. There are some who need not worry about me ‘faking’ it with them and if you know me well enough, you can spot a ‘memory lane’ smile over an ‘in-the-moment’ smile anyway. Coz we fam.

There are the three conversations that are happening. Meanwhile the back-burner is always trying to crack the code- What the hell is everyone else thinking?

I don’t really care personally, I just want to know- why? Sounds a bit psychopathic when you put it that way.

What drives you? I’m only asking because I have no idea what drives me. Every passion I have is very quickly quenched by externalities asking me if this is really what I want to be spending my life doing. There are only so many existential crises you can have at the KFC drive-thru.

Why are things not better? Why aren’t you talking to us? Ooh. Hard questions.

Sometimes it’s simple though. Yeah, I really do want to build my dream car, and no, I am not going to wait and buy a new one. I don’t want a new one. I want this one. I don’t get a buzz from possessions. I get a buzz from the meaning that they hold.

Right now, I would be more devastated loosing an empty Eclipse mints tin than I would fifty dollars.

Perspective right?



2 thoughts on “Roads

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