Hey there, crickets. Feeling a bit down, you know? (One cool thing about crickets is they keep on chirping even when you’re just talking to them.) The world’s in a real pickle right now. It’s all hush-hush and super heavy. Cultures clashing, problems piling up, and my mentors throwing career advice and consultations at me like there’s no tomorrow. I see a lovely lady, and I just wanna say, “Hey, you’re beautiful,” and see her smile. I spot some guys I’m vibing with, and I just wanna go, “Hey man, that’s cool,” and that’s enough for me in terms of interaction.
But, you know what? Sometimes it gets lonely. Sometimes you crave a real conversation, not just small talk. Sometimes, you don’t want those steamy daydreams but rather to chill in the grass and wiggle your toes, and you wish there’s someone right there, opposite you, doing the same thing, and you both acknowledge it with a grin and keep on wiggling those toes. That connection, man, that’s what I’m after. I want someone to be on the same wavelength as me for at least a solid five minutes. It’s a bummer that it usually only happens during sex, but who knows, maybe there’s hope elsewhere.
When the clock strikes 2 am, that’s when I really feel like myself. No one’s awake, it’s all quiet and pitch-black. You can just be you, deep in your thoughts, and the darkness kinda keeps you in, ideally in a room all by yourself.
You start noticing the signs of autumn creeping in. Leaves are slowly dropping, and there’s that satisfying crunch underfoot. The breeze carries that distinctive autumn scent. The sun’s rays hit you like they’re saying, “Hey, get ready, ’cause I won’t be shining like this for a while. You’re on your own now.” Kids are back in school, and you see yellow everywhere.
This summer, it was like a bolt of lightning, and my life changed as dramatically as the sea during a hurricane. It’s almost 2015, and it feels like I barely got to know 2014. I’m done trying to please people by lowering my standards. Why do folks keep ditching me?
Sometimes, being nice to a girl seems to send the wrong message. I don’t want to come across as just wanting sex or a relationship. It sucks when I get lumped into that category with a bunch of other guys. It makes me feel less like a man and more like a dinger. I sigh when my questions get dodged, and I’m like, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to confuse you.” Or when they actually engage, it’s like, “Cool, now I just want a friend.”
There are days when I feel too smart for my own good and others when I feel dumber than a rock. Sadness knocks on my door and whispers, “Just this once,” and I find myself thinking, “Okay, just this once.” I’m yearning for a friend, even if my selfishness ends up hurting more than it helps. Loneliness can make you pretty darn desperate, but hey, alcohol and coffee can work their magic.
Even Sinatra on the record player isn’t cutting it these days. His voice doesn’t bring a smile like it used to. The wine stains on the glass are becoming a familiar sight, and I just can’t seem to figure things out. God, well, he’s starting to look like a convenient scapegoat. What about all those times he let me down? Was he testing me then? This feels like the longest, most bizarre test ever, and he’s the most patient proctor ever. But you know what? I’m starting to think this test doesn’t exist. In fact, I’m pretty sure it doesn’t. It’s just 2 am, after all.