Friends

People whom I thought were friends are acting younger and younger, alienating themselves, and becoming less and less likeable; they are less like the people I once met, and not at all like people with whom I wish to spend my time.

My loyalties lie in the right places, and I feel persecuted for this. Why is it that I cannot shake off the feeling of caring what others think? I know I should not care ... in fact, I know that deep down I DO NOT care, and yet I continue to torment myself and dupe my mind into believing that I actually give a shit about what these others think. They only make me angry and sad, and clog up my life, these others. I can find love and friendship and humour and cheer in plenty of places, mostly in one place, and yet I am bound to other places, with other people, who serve only to upset me.

(What I love about this medium is that I can vent feelings, make them public, and still hang onto the sense that no-one really knows exactly what or who I am talking about.)