I am a coward

 

I sit when I want to scream, I smile when I want to spit and I feign interest somewhere else so as to not engage with the likes of you. Or at least, what I have decided you are at this moment. I am tired, I am bored, I am lonely but not alone, I am a coward.

 

Am I so pathetic that I will withstand feeling empty most of the time in order to be touched at least every now and then. Or am I the teacher? The one who rises above self need to give to another. To love and not need to be loved.

 

I am both...

 

Am I the asshole who reads too many books then breathes life into another mans words, convincing myself of my own bullshit to feel the angst I have no right to feel?

 

I am a coward.

 

I sat on the train today... angry, self righteous, fluffing my gate so as to take up every inch of my caved in pigeon hole. I wanted to scream, tell everyone my idea of truth and all the reasons why they should just call it a fucking day.

 

Everyone is so miserable, me included, I just lose sight as to whether I am disgusted with myself, the world around me, my ideas about the world around me, or what my ideas about the world around me tell me about myself... It's fucking endless, this unrest. Ya dammed if you do, and you're dammed if you don't. Nobody looks up... It terrifies me, and then I guess at times makes me feel good, allows me to tell myself I am special, I am aware and different, I am enlightened etc, etc, etc

 

But it's so lonely, out in the world, amongst everyone and no one... I feel like everyone is hiding, I just hide in plain view.

 

A baby was screaming in his stroller as I was waiting for the train, it echoed through the station, people everywhere pretended not to notice, obviously ignoring the tortured infant.

 

An elderly black woman stood and stared at the baby, the father pushing the stroller rapidly back and forth and chewing gum through a smirk... You could see he wasn't a dad very often, nor the most emotional of guys...

 

" He wants me to pick him up, but I'm not going too"

 

He said

 

"Why not? He wants to feel you."

 

The older woman said

 

" He'll be fine, he'll go to sleep..."

 

He said, and continued to rock the stroller rapidly too and fro, chewing, and smirking.

 

I had to take a deep breath as the baby screamed, it sounded so painful, so shrill, so desperate.

 

It made me want to cry because he was so tiny, so brand new.

 

I wanted to tell his father he would have such a short time with this tiny creature, such a sweet beautiful short time that he would have to be able to hold his son, the way he can now. I wanted to hold his son. So many sons are going un held.

 

Masculinity and the idea of masculinity is an abomination, I feel sad for men sometimes, having to uphold this idiotic idea of manhood, this disassociation to emotion, touch, and need as being a symptom of weakness, it seems so ridiculous to me.

 

Paul Newman is one of the coolest men of all time... He was a cowboy, a cowboy that made salad dressing.... Ranch, dressing.

RANCH DRESSING