IT’S 2 A.M

hello crickets. im sad. (the wonderful thing about crickets is they’ll keep chirping if you’re talking to them)The world is at a crossroads. It’s silent and heavy. The cultures the clashes. The cancer, the caving. The careers and consultations my mentors suggest. I look at beautiful woman and I want to tell them they’re beautiful. To smile. I look at men I have some interests with and I want to tell them “hey man, that’s cool.” the comment alone is enough for me as a interaction. sometimes It’s lonely. sometimes you want them to be interested in what you have to say. Sometimes you want a meaningful conversation. sometimes I don’t want to fantasize about sexual trysts. I just want to roll around in some grass and wiggle my toes and I want someone just opposite of me wiggling their toes in the dirt too,- and we notice each other doin it and we keep on wiggling our toes. I want to share that connection with someone else. I want someone to think the same exact thing as me for 5 minutes straight at least, and it’s unfortunate sex is probably the only time that’ll hold a true sentiment. but maybe not. at 2am I become myself. it’s for two things, nobody is up, it’s quiet and it’s dark. so you can be yourself, think and the darkness compels you to stay inside. preferably in a room alone. The leaves are slowyyy beginning to fall. I hear crunching in the grass more often when I walk everyday. the breeze has a scent to it. the sun hits you as if to say “prepare my child, I won’t embrace you like this for awhile” you’re on your own. Kids are back to school and yellow is a common theme. this summer was a thunderbolt and my life changes like the sea in a hurricane. It’s almost 2015 and I’ve barely known you 2014. I’m tired of trying to please people by lowering my standards. why do people leave me? Sometimes I feel if I’m nice to a girl she’ll think I want sexy or a relationship. And I’m categorized into this placer with a bunch of other men. I don’t feel like a man when I’m categorized, I feel like a dinger. I sigh when one of my questions turn into avoidance. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to confuse you. or if they think I’m suitable they’ll invite me further to chat. I just want a friend. sometimes I feel too smart and other days too dumb. sadness knocks on my door and says just this one time. I kiss you and think, “just.this.one.time” I lunge at the thought of having a friend. selfish to the fact I knew its hurt you more than me. loneliness makes you desperate. but it’s okay, alcohol and coffee make you new my dear. Sinatra on the record player just isn’t enough these days. his voice doesn’t make me smile enough these days. the glass stains with wine become a more repetitive thing. And I just can’t seem to put things together. God is looking more like a scapegoat. What about the times he let me down? Was he testing me then? this is the single most longest test and he’s the single most patient proctor. I’m starting to think the test doesn’t exist. actually I know it doesn’t. it’s 2am