Some people are lame. Or am I just perfect? Chances are both are incorrect. Perception can be everything, while interception of ones perception can cause deception, hence redemption. But that’s a whole other ball of wax so back to the lameness.

You don’t know someone from a hole in the ground. You remedy that. You hit it off smashingly. The world has just improved. Then something happens and not for the good. Now you’re total strangers with that piece in your brain where you were temporarily inseparable. Those people..they’re lame.

Best friends. Partial aquaintances. Deeply connected partners. Temporary lovers. Sisters from another misters. These connections take place in all shapes and sizes. And I, for one, find the whole idea to be very traumatic for all involved. We are all walking around with these giant holes in our souls and it’s just part of life? Shouldn’t be the case.

One becomes an island. He distances himself from anything resembling intimacy. Even simple likability. He goes out of his way to almost offend those that circle his radar. Peace of mind is his but his disconnection has him dying on the inside. Or wait..was he an island to begin with and without ever really forming solid bonds he is permanently unavailable for any mutual happiness? That’s cold and sick, but maybe.

So you jump in again, possibly this time trying the ease approach because this could equal success. You wall your heart, shelf it if you will and proceed. The equilibrium is teetered and nothing good can come of this but it was worth a shot. Was it really? Is this now how you go through life?

You convince yourself you care not. You’ve got all you need and anything else is just disruptive. No more pain and it’s back on with the island routine but this time it’s different. It’s no longer a defense mechanism, it’s simply your new reality. And it’s working.

But you miss love. Giving and receiving. If there was one thing important in this brief life it is, in fact, love and you know this, even buried way down. So it becomes a possibility again. And the journey continues. The tortuous, arduous, incongruous march through this thing they call your existence.

Some people are lame. But inside we’re all the same. I can accept I’m quite lame. All I ask is you do the same.