After The Party

I woke up this morning, not wanting to be seen. Fat chance of that, when you wake up on the street and all the busy ants are going about their business. I find solace in how oblivious they are to my presence. Still, I find myself enraged by their very existence, preventing me from finding peace in my despair. Some seem happy, which I find preferable to the grim faces I see. Those people I want to grab, shake them and scream, "Would you rather be me?" That might cheer them up, so I don't do it. Days since I have been shown any kindness. I try not to think about it but I can't help myself. Thought has betrayed me so many times before, but it's all I have left. I thought I had more to say, but it wasn't anything worthwhile. I would've had to force it out, the words fighting to stay in my mind where it's always safe and warm. I am sure I just would've made them look bad. From now on, I will try to stay away from the bleak examination of my feelings and stick to being informative and entertaining. Just because I am sleeping on the street doesn't mean my readers should suffer too.

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