I still do not feel like talking much, preferring to remain a mute recluse with only my thoughts and feelings as company. Though we’re hardly the best of friends nor has their presence been requested so I waste away the days ignoring their pesky bickering.
My zombie stance of late has me also pondering why no one seems to have noticed? I’ve been in a lackluster state for some time now, keeping to myself and preferring the heavenly solitary confinement of my bedroom. Not that I do this for show or to gain sympathy but how is it that nobody seems to question my prosaic mode? Or is it that I’ve lived in this manner for so long that they just consider it a part of me?
Looking at childhood photographs I see the eyes of a terribly sad and lonely child staring right back at me. Perhaps I’ve been the embodiment of misery my entire life? I can’t help but want to strongly disagree.
But the point remains. No one notices. Nobody ever seems to.
Well aside from you of course.