Endroit (endroit) wrote,

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torch songs and tone poems

anyways. I've been a funk. lately. I feel like a very little person. someone recently referred to me as the 'ugly one' and it shattered my confidence like no other. I'll admit. the last two years haven't been the most successful. I shouldn't measure mine agaisnt someone else but its discouraging. I've had nothing. for two years. I've been alone. and its been lonely. the battle seems very hard and trying.

on friday, a friend of mine gave me the answer I suspected about her friend. that there just isn't any interest beyond a possibly small physical one that is probably just a moment of fleeting desires for something of fulfillment to help out a need. There's been a lot of these lately. I used to feel above the fray and now, I feel like a tiny little person in a world where nobody is even aware of me. I could go on and on. and I don't think it would be noticeable.

I dunno maybe I'll find another person. maybe I won't. I've started to give up as a man. lonliness won't be cured by anyone but myself. lately, I feel like I've been in a state of a dream or a very serene nightmare. I've desired for that ever lasting search for reverie only to be let down by the revelation. often times, my confidence was being fed together by some Amniotic fluid that I am unable to hold some sort effable hold onto what I want. its quite a disaster for me lately.

in a perfect world, this band, this pursuit of love would seem to me a dream. a dream where I outlive and perform the dream in all of its glory and pitfalls but along the way, the creatures of the dark have been coming forward and creeping their way about the stage where my performance is being held.

I know I could look back at these days if I am older and think about it as a lost proposition for something more. I could wonder and wander aimlessly and think about the songs I never wrote, the play I never starred in, the painting I never began.

I don't really want to think about it. but it creeps one me. most of all I fear, in a way that could seem devastingly possible, is about the missed opportunity of a love that I never proposed to.

I could write and write this and this could be the minor key ballad of the end credits of when my show is complete. it might possibly be, about all the chances I've missed.

Life to me seems to be a never ending teasing filled with playfullness and tragedy. the tragedies are what we make of it. we remember the good and the beautiful on our death beds. those last instances, where we have a chance to die in peace with those of the ones we loved by our side, we remember in a flash all of the wonderful things in all of those little places where we would go out and play.

yet we remember the tragedy for a life time.

for me...the tragedy at the moment lies in my lonliness and fiancial peril. to me the beautiful woman with a big smile. the one I so dearly miss and have never met.

In my age of 21, I decided while living alone in apartment in the ghetto of Daly City to immerse myself in the readings of Oscar Wilde and George Bernard Shaw. I really had no other friends except the imaginary ones I read about wondered why those adventures were not mine. there was one quote in particular, which was the basis for non-basis of this post.

You see things as they are and ask, "Why?" I dream things as they never were and ask, "Why not?"

- George Bernard Shaw
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