independent

 The world is ending… so everyone has stopped drinking and has started having kids. I simply do not understand it. I take a short walk in my flip flops and go directly to the pool on the way back. In the pool I read a book and enjoy the blinding bright blue sky. Tomorrow morning, starting at 8am, I have three one-hour meetings back-to-back, so I decide against having a beer. Last night was a sleepless one, mostly, because my mind was painting the walls and ceiling black. I dozed off at 5am and had a dream about an ex. I awoke feeling desperate to message her… but I resisted the urge. In the pool I started to see things… a crocodile floating upon a crocodile… and prey, or babies, in the water. A stampede takes place on a balcony to my right and there are more babies, forever loud. The drone ant colonies file home from the office. They are told to return to the office, and they do. They are told the climate is changing and they ignore it. They ignore all science. But they love money. They love office romance. They love to escape the families they are so eager to create.

                  It feels good to be independent. But there is an overwhelming sadness for those who are not, those who are stuck or desperate… either unable to leave, to be alone, to start a new life… or those who are alone and are desperate not to be, to the extent that they feel they can’t endure another day unless they have someone to accompany them upon life’s journey. It’s great to see people happy through whatever brings them happiness, and that way they can leave me alone to be happy, too. However, there are mornings like this one when I awake from a dream about an ex and feel an intense desire to reach out, to hold, to kiss, to touch. On mornings like this it seems less easy to be alone. Nevertheless, the day comes and washes those feelings away.





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