December 8, 2018
“Do you see that fancy shop and that fancy sign? Don’t think about going in there. You cant afford it. You are not young enough. You are not hip enough. And none of those things can fit you anyway. You are old. You are fat. You have no style. You are a loser,” someone says.
“In public, you have to be silent. In public, don’t make a move. Don’t say anything. Whatever you say will be wrong. No one wants to talk to you anyways. Why would they want to talk to a loser?” someone says.
“In this coffee shop, everybody looks like they just stepped out of either a Portlandia set or a Hallmark Christmas special. I hate them all,” someone says.
“I wonder who here is really an extraterrestrial? I bet it’s the guy with the square jaw and perfect hair,” someone says.
“The 18 year old pouty girl with the goldie locks hair keeps staring at me. She thinks I am an idiot. Or I remind her of her mother and she hates her mother,” someone says.
“The girl across from me talking about math equations looks as bored and worn out as me. She is frustrated with the boy whom she is talking to because he is asking stupid questions and keeps repeating himself with ‘All I am saying is…’ I like her a lot and I think we could be friends,” someone says.
“You are a loser. You will always be a loser,” someone says.
Who is saying all this? It could be many people or just one in disguise. They could be thinking that they are helping me but in the end they just make me exhausted. All washed up. Used. A failure. A loser, like they say.
And empty. Blank inside. Peacefully void of any thought because the thoughts in my head are now thoughts outside of my head. Liberated from all these voices that I didn’t even know were there.
Free.
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