A false front. A facade. A presentation of characteristics that lets all onlookers believe that everything is exactly as it should be at any given moment. Every alcoholics uniform. The flying flag of the life-long drug addict. The earmark of the adult child. So good when it lies silently on paper, but an abomination when it all becomes clear that the entire existence is riddled with fear and expectation and assumption. A two-sided coin.
It’s 3:00am and I’m awake. Disrupted from my sleep by a brain full of ideas and worry. Rustled from my slumber by the caffeine consumed in my youth. I’d write back, but I’m disappointed. Let down by the aforementioned. Confused by the paradox. The commute is long. The days are longer and they just get stacked on each other. It can’t always be this way, but for now, in this darkness, I am still upset or up and set or simply just up. Accept. Just words. So much expectation. So much assumption. Ultimately just an ultimatum in disguise. A fire quietly covered under a pristine horse drawn wagon. Wooden wheels and all. Human to human. That’s the only way. If I write it all out I’ll just end up exploding or vomiting or going flat. So much good and so much bad. You’d think it would balance itself, but it really doesn’t.