It comes to me in waves and I just get tired of people. Dealing with them, working around them, through them, saying and hearing things I know come by rote. Practice makes perfect and that one's a champ. It's all in the head, though our hearts attempt to lay claim on a corner or two. Meaningless air.
I get tired of being known. Recognized. And the one-sided hide-and-seek that goes on though I've simply grown weary of looking. Terrible, though, is my eyes still find old targets. Usually before I can even realize what I've seen.
Look away.
I'm not the one who started this game.
It would be better if not a one of them knew me.
But that's only this wave. With the next I'll feel differently again. Blessing or curse, I find myself forever in motion.
You know, it's still strange to me when people I know stop to ask me about what's going on in my life. I can never believe they could care so much as their words would suggest. It's the sentiment, and I'm unimpressed. Grease between the cogs of social mechanics... Well I'm about ready to drop the whole machine from the rooftop of Hurd.
I feel a little bad.
So often people ask me one of those grease questions, performing an act of social nicety, and too often all I can bring myself to is a non-committal answer and no thought to returning the question. I don't know if I'm apathetic only because I believe they truly are, or if I believe they're apathetic only because I truly am. One of these must be true.
Sometimes I pretend to care even when I don't. But I quickly grow weary of that. It's better to just walk away. It's better that I truly care.
And with that, my laundry's done.
Good night all.
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