Prose, poetry, fiction, and rambles from people with a bit too much time on their hands.

sonnet 3

For all attempts I make to be recognized, I’ve yet to carve a niche.
Perhaps I should merely let it carve itself, letting the winds of time slowly uncover my true calling.
If anything, life’s a bitch.
Both ideas, it seems, are horribly unappealing and appalling.

It’s an innate human desire, the desire to be seen, to be noticed.
Under the watchful scrutiny of judgmental eyes, can you truly observe the seeds that you have sown.
Above it all, a person merely wants to be acknowledged.
It’s how we know we’re not alone.

These thoughts niggle my mind at random intervals.
Why are we driven to find a companion, someone we can confide in, someone we can trust?
One can argue that it’s derived from our original natures as animals.
You can believe that, if you must.

The one fact that I realized, the one fact that we must face;
Solitude leads to insanity at a faster pace.

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