It's a thousand tiny cuts that you receive
From the moment you're born
Waiting for someone to tell you that you are beautiful.
You yearn to stay youthful
You've learned the indisputable fact.
Your inherent value as a person
Reduced to your physical appearance
And given a numerical value online
For what is a selfie without it likes?

This is enough to make anyone cynical
Because everyone is the enemy
Like buskers on a busy street
All are competing for the attention
Of the passing indifferent crowds
All singing to be seen, to be known
Even just for one fleeting moment

It is a strange but primary emotion of the human condition
Decreed at birth to need validation
And this foundation is firmly instilled in us.
We never learn to fuss about it, as society reminds us
That there is nothing to discuss.
Sign up and accept the terms and conditions.
Show yourself to the world.
Nothing beats the sensation of adoration.
Even now, right now, I am showing myself to you.

So tell me I'm pretty, world.
Tell me I matter.
Tell me I exist.

There comes that moment of sudden awareness
When you raise your head and see the bigger picture
See the links between everything in your life
And make the connection that makes the most sense to you

My connection will be different to yours
Some will see undeniable proof that the Earth is flat.
Others will see a plan of salvation lay out for them.

It does not matter about absolute Truths.
Chasing such is absurd
Because if no one can see it
Nor perceive it
Then does it really exist?
All people see are their own truths instead
Ascribing meaning to the Chaos

That's the 'real connection between us all
The interconnectness of all things lay in the connections we all make
We are all bending reality ever so slightly to fit the narrative we have crafted for ourselves
Telling ourselves stories to make sense of everything - and we all have stories

I will not seek solutions by a judicious study of the discernable reality, looking for The Truth.
I will act and create my own reality
Until eventually, everything connects.

The first kiss was nice.
I was suddenly reminded of all the fun we had.
I felt my heart swell with old memories
Of dancing in your room at night
Or laying in the afternoon sun.
The time I melted into you
And you said you loved me.

That first kiss was nice.

Then you kissed me again.
I recalled how it ended.
The hurt and pain of the separation.
The feeling of not being want,
Of not being good enough.
My heart shriveled up as it remembered the heartache.

The second kiss was not nice.

I'll get the last train home
I do not wish to outstay my welcome
I really don't mind - I actually like it
Can you like sad and lonely times?
There's an odd feeling when overhearing friends talk
It forms the static beneath my thoughts
As I hold on tight to this solitude
And try to like it as much as it likes me

For that restless wanderer there is no common ground

On Sundays - when family rest and friends play - he has no where to go.

He hath ears and hears all
That is more painful than mere sight alone
Conversations that he will never partake in again

Through this suffering may wisdom come
Or else eternal punshiment for the restless wanderer