I am what you might call an abnormal specie
Although I possess most characteristics of homosapiens I feel ****...different
People say I'm an epitome of art which I find amusing
I feel more like a homeless spirit tossed around by the wind without purpose.
I hardly do things my friends do, sometimes I try hard to blend
My friends tell their love stories and emotions
I go to my story *** and cook creative stories of me spiced with scenes from Indian movies
I have a barricade of fear, anxiety and distrust around my stomach so you can't find butterflies there
Don't get me wrong, I haven't had any heart breaks... Maybe once or twice... I don't remember because I'm not bothered
I gave up on love long time ago... Maybe I didn't... Maybe it just... Left.
So here I am on a serious relationship with depression and solitude
My friends tell tales of their *** experience with girlfriends, party strangers but I'm too shy to tell them of my daily ******* with my lovers.
I flirt sometimes and it seems like a natural gift, I could say sweet words that will make Shakespeare's grave tremble but I never have the strength to go further; to lie on their naked body because I fear I might break their hearts if I go too deep. She might think I'm in love but get disappointed the next morning then sing aloud the daily female hymn "Men are ****"
I'm considered the devil's agent because I'm one of the few species who dare to ask "why" whenever it comes to religious matters.
I am a stranger to myself, I say and do things I never thought I could. I'm a coward, luckily my alter ego is fierce, he's the gifted one; the poet and smooth talker, I just take the credits.
I'm scared of marriage, will I marry because I love her or because my mother desperately needs grandchildren so she can sing lullabies to their tiny ears? Will I love my wife? How will I when love seems like a foreign, ancient and forgotten language?
I am the only one of my kind.
I am... I really don't know who I am.