Picking
Up The Pieces
My life has been in pieces since my earliest memories. My
time on this Earth always has been on the outside looking in. No matter how
hard I’ve tried, no matter how hard I’ve prayed, I have never been able to put all
the pieces together. At this point in my existence, it is painfully obvious
that I will end this way, and will not kid myself into believing it will be any
other way.
I’ve seen how people around me
belong to something. I used to wish so hard to feel that, to experience that
even for a little while. If I were to feel
that, I want it for good. I don’t buy that It’s better to have and lost, than to never have at all bull. I’m
not just talking about love and romance. I’m talking about being a part of the
human race to fit in, to belong. I’m a misfit, misanthrope.
I had no control over my way in the
world as a child. Forces then worked to push me outside the human circle and
keep me there. As a young man turned loose on the world, I had no sense of self
or set of rules for social interaction. With no self-esteem, no idea of how to
engage with and nurture a relationship with anyone, the recipe with females was
subject to abject failure. I have no real significant friendships to look back
on period, just many shallow acquaintances and brief encounters with
women; no semblance of a relationship throughout my years.
I am so tired of beating on this
bubble trying to get on the inside or am I on trapped on the inside trying to
bust out? Either way, I am going to die with my face pressed against the glass
with my life still in pieces.
Robert NYcanes Richardson
Follow Robert on Twitter @NYcanes and on Tumblr
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