It came full circle, ugliness

We are all hopeless, it cannot be escaped. My heart is still beating but I feel as though my soul has stopped beating with it a long time ago. My soul is not a living thing but in a state of dying, like it has achieved its peak and is gradually fading away into a death, into a severance of body and soul, where my being will be split asunder (I have always loved that word, it speaks of lighting bolts and incomprehensible power; anything that is beyond human comprehension is worth recognition). What has propelled me toward such a bleak and unsatisfying end? I do not know.

I do know that my friendships are strictly business: "what is that you do?", "what is that you can do?", "what is it that you can do for me?". There is a strange space that exists between a connection and the hope of a future connection. You meet someone new, someone different perhaps, or beautiful, or admirable, talented, intriguing or just someone like yourself. In this meeting the opposite person is thinking that you possess some of the previous qualities and so some form of connection is established and you both leave your first meeting in the hope of another. You are too shy, too afraid of rejection or too convinced of your worthlessness to think that they would be also thinking the same thing. And so you see your hope around, here and there but never to approach just in case you spoil the sacred moment of your first meeting. Every exchange of words from then is weak and makes you feel short of breath, you squirm and glance away, looking for a way out or an easy way in, forget about it, you cannot walk upright through a crack in the brickwork.

Then, of course, there is that rare and decisive moment of hope in which a step of uncertainty is made and a connection is remade, in that oxygen instance you have floods of ideas and unity, passion and an unstable desire to conquer the world. Or you could just kick them in the face and spit on them running away quickly so that as they see your back a voice whispers in their head that eventually spews out of every orifice cursing and remembering what you did in between shaking their head and shaking the heads of everybody they know. You know better than them.

You always did.