First thing’s first – brief rant:
I tend to fly solo. Perhaps this is a common trait of Writers? Not sure. Furthermore, I don’t sleep. On certain days, like today, this creates a striking crimson backdrop to my green irises.
Minding my own business this evening wandering blocks of brief encounters with many people I haven’t seen for years, I was approached by a handful of strangers… which I am ordinarily all for. Talking to strangers is one of my favorite past times, it ranks close to running with scissors.
What grossed me out were the assumptions these ‘strangers’ made about my comprehension abilities. Was it my 
red eyes? Was it my seeming obsession with the notebook I was running around scribbling in? Was it because I didn’t have someone holding my hand along empty backstreets? Fair enough it’s a full moon tonight, but come on people…
What-ev… I’m totally ranting. Maybe I’ve been taking life too seriously and need to get it off my chest.
Point: If you see me alone, with bloodshot eyes, and an absent stare… this doesn’t mean ‘Maybe I should take you somewhere,’ or ‘You shouldn’t stand so close to the edge of the sidewalk, let me help you…’
I’m fine… really. And alert. Insanely alert, to be honest… just ask my Sifu.
I miss the puppies. I haven’t raised this, in case you haven’t noticed… it’s sort of a sensitive topic.
a framed mirror
Recognized. You. Before we even met…
On first sight. I… new… nothing is the same.
Asking (unseen) forces to explain… yet…
Half to the other. Understands. No shame.
She’s quitting habits instead of disguise.
His explanations don’t come… as easy…
Life carries on because…. None are too wise.
His breath shortage is her wheezing.
She’s a full moon puppet. Dangling from sky.
He doesn’t tell a soul. She cannot care.
Upon first sight. He first to ask… why?
Moments questioning are replaced with stares.
She bites her own hand. To keep it… inside.
Who are they? Identity. Coincide.
No question we are lone wolves. I went to a conference on Friday and kept getting approached by colleagues. They seemed put off by the fact that I didn’t want to hang out and talk between sessions-but frankly, the human contact I get at work is just about all I can take. I want to be alone because I like it-I need to think about things and observe. I don’t want to chatter.
I guess there’s a little wounded maiden effect going on here-a sad looking girl in a pretty dress brings out the Papa Bear in some guys. Try to think of it as people wanting to keep you safe, I guess. It’s a little sexist, but we can’t help it-it’s inbred.
Always love your insights Michael! I think because I spend so much time focussing on the interconnection of everything, I never feel separate (in many ways). So when people approach me like I need to be saved, it’s perplexing.
I enjoy a balance of human contact and solitary confinement. I actual prefer casual chance upons, which is part of why NYC is my favorite! It’s easy to find someone to strike a few minutes of life exchange with.
But don’t get me wrong… there are still a few beauties I’ve crossed paths with that I simply can’t get enough of 😉