Its been a few months so its time to take stock
of where I am currently in my life-story's plot.
I'm at a place now where I'm staring to care
about politics, my appearance, and a lack of relationships.
Which is all new to me,
moving forward from a place of complete complacency.
A former strange acceptance of being alone.
No desire for interactions outside of my home.
Once committed to the idea that being single is ideal.
The foundations of which have started to crack and reveal
my own insecurities.
A lack of belief in myself.
Such poor self-esteem really affected my health.
But now its important to me to make new friends.
Even though its a new anxiety to cloud up my head.
I've been fighting addiction left right and center
and staving off urges to pop one and feel better.
If I could get my hands on it, it'd all be over.
Because anything is better than sitting here sober
dealing with an existential crisis, day after day.
Your own mental prison is difficult to escape.
I need an accomplice to help me break free.
But when you're a recluse that isn't a possibility.
And what is this inkling of vanity I feel?
I don't have to look at me so what's the big deal?
I've never been the type to try and impress
those that are shallow and judge how I dress
or my ****** hair choices.
I just want a beard.
But now I'm self conscious about how I appear.
Trim the beard to look less homeless.
Put on jeans so I don't look grotesque.
A whole new level of **** to fret about.
Acting my age really stresses me out.
It doesn't rhyme well, or flow nicely. But its accurate and that's the point.