Drowning in Thoughts

Thinking is an unwelcome vocation, when it is half past midnight; your knees are sore; the meds aren’t working; and there is nothing on TV. So here I am for your reading pleasure.

You can be surrounded with all your heart’s desires and still feel alone. Oh, crap! Adam, don’t go on one of these self-pity rants. In case you missed it. Read the opening lines again.

I don’t live alone. Admittedly, I live with my parents. And God bless them, because I am not sure where I’d be without them. I have a son. He loves me. I know he loves me, because he tells me. He cuddles with me. He hugs and kisses me. I could get all the same affection from a dog without 18 more years of child support payments, but really… where’s the fun in that? Friends…they come and go. Throughout your life, they always do. And I wouldn’t be here without my brother. He is my life blood.

Maybe, I’m getting off track or maybe the meds are finally kicking in. The point is. I feel alone. I could be standing in a sea of a million people and feel alone. I always have.

I participated in a program in college called “Lost but not Forgotten.” We’d paint our faces pale and put dark circles under our eyes. We’d wear T-shirts explaining how we were one of thousands of college students, who would be lost this year due to a drunk-driving accident. We’d ask permission of our professors not to speak for the day and then remain in silence from dusk ‘til dawn. It was the one day everyone wanted to talk with me. That never made sense.

I was in a rock band in high school called Rugged Sara. (Cheap Pop!) I had my regular group of friends consisting of nerds, band dorks, and freaks. We played one show at the high school and some of the “cool” kids then noticed me. Of course, everything is short lived. We broke up the next year and I fell into obscurity again. I never understood that either.

I was the last to be picked for kick ball. Good reason, I sucked. I was last to get a science partner. Bad reason, I was fat and a dork. I’ll never be a model, super or plus-size. I like to eat too much. I’ll never be NBA Hall of Famer. I’m white, short, clumsy, and slow. But I like to think I’m a good person.

We all have faults. Damn, I could start writing tonight until Tuesday and probably not finish a list of mine. I don’t have a clue what my point is. Maybe, there doesn’t have to be. Some things just are. I guess I am too.

Cheers.