fun.

alone on a Friday night, not mad at anyone but yourself, but because it’s so much inside you it makes you hate everything outside you, everything you see. it’s your fault, and you’re surprised that everything you do to make yourself unhappy has finally worked. it’s a small wave. it washes away as it quickly as it drowned you. you will do it again and again until there’s no sand left to weather on your shores, until the birds get bored at picking at your hardened crumbs, until you forget you weren’t always the ghost trail of water so far from you that you were never parted from it. you know it is a lie, but you know you don’t know anything, so it could be the truth, and in this moment the truth matters. you’re having fun.

it washes away. it really had all been for nothing.


I didn’t have fun today,

so I was no fun.

I didn’t get called fun today,

so I must not be fun.

I didn’t make you smile today,

so I know I’m not fun.

Nobody’s around me, nobody’s around, so I’m nobody today, nobody since I was first called a someone.

I didn’t have fun today,

so I’m not fun.

I didn’t see anyone today,

so I have no one.

I didn’t matter to anyone today,

so I’m no one.

I didn’t see you today,

so I didn’t see anyone.

Nobody is around me,

so nobody wants me to be around.

Nobody wants to be around me,

because I don’t have anyone around me.

I’m no fun, no fun, nobody, all alone, my favorite fear, all alone and nobody.

Nobody’s around me, nobody’s around, so I’m nobody today, nobody since I was first called a someone.

~Sammicakes

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