The Mark of Lightning

Self Pity Party

I had always been seen as a misfit. Some would say an outsider, to others introverted. However, no one has the right to assume even if the assumptions aren't false. When people say things to you over the course of numerous years you believe them.

You become your own terrorist in your very own mind. Even the idea of your own personality leaves a lingering bitter taste in your mouth.

Welcome to my world. A world of pain and distasteful desires with just an ounce of love. You would think after years of the same playing cards I would be the master of my very own game of hate. Yet, here I am in a diner pitying myself.

The cold, grey, lifeless eyes scare the normal folk away so no need to fret. The raised eyebrow and creased forehead along with a blank face give off an effective facade. No one cares enough to break my walls. It's a rigorous climb, even the bravest of hearts have difficulty. Not even a slice of myself shines through in the slightest.

I wave over an old blonde. "What can I get ya darlin." I order the nachos with cheese and jalapenos. We're already born to die, so why not speed up the process by eating shitty foods.

I can imagine the food will take long considering there are many guys to please in the kitchen according to the blonde waitress.

My vile thoughts stop as I hear the ring of a familiar door bell. In walks a group of jocks with a high probability of coming out to be gay with one another in their forties. They all go to my high school, and from my well seasoned knowledge they kiss a lot of ass to get through the year without flunking. At the front of the gaggle is a male with an IQ no higher than 80 with a girl hanging on him like a one trick monkey.(get it cuz she only knows how to do one thing *wink wink, nudge nudge*)

The mentioned guys name is  Oswald

The waiter stepped in front of me with my beloved dinner. I thanked her, but before she left I got a whiff of old and dirty pussy. Well said dumb ass.

The prodigals hadn't taken but a glance in my direction. I can understand why, but give my dignity a little bump will ya?

I observed them for quite a while, looking each and every detail. I noticed the Ozmister catch my gaze multiple times, but I think nothing of it.

It's funny how people go to the zoo to watch animals, although the more interesting part is watching the people. We the people have made ourselves into a zoo without knowing. I find myself making a connection to a zoo because I find other people to be a wild animal in a cage, let out just to be disappointed. You get dissatisfaction from the fact that the animal does nothing except sit there and look pretty for the unfazed children.

I see the group of people getting huddled together and lower their voices, as if that would protect their unheard conversations. I saw money being dealt and hands being worked. The only thing missing was the motivation. Why were they doing this? What is their purpose?