5 Confessions; Unconnected reality.

「5 Stories」 (FJFreeman.blog)

“Here are 5 short stories (less than 500 words each) that I wrote. And they don’t really have anything to do with each other, or maybe they do, I don’t even know myself.”

INDEX:

1. One man explaining to another.

2. Two much love; makes me feel like I’m drowning.

3. Tric’ed Scared

4. I don’t want to speak about it I don’t want to speak about it I don’t want to speak about it I don’t want to speak about it.

5. The Sleepy Town of two faces.


1. One man explaining to another.

My absolutely best friend, who also happens to be a woman, asked me to accompany her to Home Depot, of course not without warrant, I had promised her I would help her buy some stuff for a new carpets project she is currently starting. This of course because she is special to me and I want to financially support her in this new idea. She’s making custom diy carpets. Or course you can’t forget, me chillin by the pool, while she’s puts some nails on a wooden frame. The moral of the story, when she asked a question to a man(tm) he explained the measurements to me, making direct eye contact, instead of looking at her. I diverted my gaze, trying to make him understand, should I have spoken up?

2. Two much love; makes me feel like I’m drowning.

Somewhere along the way, you got into your head, that saying “I love you” every day was an important thing you should do because that way when you died at least you could say you said it everyday. But honestly it’s just suffocating me, it’s drowning me in a sea of fake tears and helpless ambitions. Silent thoughts that can never be spoken, never understood and never learned. Admit it, it’s for your own selfish reason anyway, and the matter of fact is you’re building a fake miasma of hypocrisy and distance between us and you don’t even know it. You selfish prick! When I was 13 you shied me away from cooking because, “because only girls do it,” yet you have never cooked me a meal in your life. You’re negligence is what made me fucked up, is what brings me to edge of death. Yet you insist of saying you’re present, you’re not. All you wanna do is sit on your fat ass and watch tv, then when you’re bored you bog me with useless questions that you deem conversation. And you use those crutches because you forgot how to actually have one, and when you do, you only want me to hear your problems, and you never stop to listen mine. This is not a scream of help, I’ve frowned accustomed to such micro passive aggressive aggression. Thank you for never teaching me how to cook, or how to do the dishes, hey thanks for teaching me how not to have self control. Thanks for absolutely nothing and all this fake love.

3. Tric’ed Scared

I’m scared that I’m slowly devolving into something that my friends can only talk about content and not personal things, speaking about content feels fake and hypocritical because rarely now a days do we land on similar stuff. Everyone enjoys different things and that’s okay, but I’m not afraid of being vulnerable with you.

4. I don’t want to speak about it I don’t want to speak about it I don’t want to speak about it I don’t want to speak about it

We know it’s in the air, hanging by a thread, around my neck, one push away, until I suffocate.

5. The Sleepy Town of two faces.

Welcome to the city that is in between two worlds, ever changing in it’s schemes, with the ability to impose authority in on itself.

It’s complicated.

Here everyone, absolutely everything speaks two languages, there’s no exception, there are those that might pretend like there is, but there’s not. We all know it, you can literally walk up to anyone and start up a conversation in any of the two langues, and they’ll speak both. Or at least they’ll know enough of the second one to refer you to someone that does.

Here people go about their day, looking at the horizon and seeing only flat, an infinite desert as far as they eye can see. Just full of other people – just full of life.

It humbles you, as this is another life, this is another realm, it feels like you’ve gone through a portal, a different land, but at the same time there’s some familiarity to it. You wish to fit in and connect with other people, but it takes so much energy to get a genuine reaction from someone else. But generally people go about their day not putting much effort into thinking about others. Their own persona is much more important than the rest of the lot.

Some people are nice, they talk to you, and make conversation with you. If only you take a moment to think about them and be nice as well. They’ll appreciate it with a smile, others just keep to themselves.

Going about their daily routines, thinking nothing of it. Grinding day in and day out.

There are stories here, but it’s only the moment’s that we pass together that make them real.

The sleepy town runs on a different clock, time seemingly moves slower, and sometimes when we are having fun, it runs faster. Escaping from our grasp.

Each moment more minuscule than the rest as it fades away from our memories. Some people can hurt us without knowing – it is not their fault. They simply do not know better than their closed knit in a bubble. Sometimes we break it, as we interact, and that can cause discomfort. Awkward moments in between the fades of light.

Don't be shy.

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