The sound of laughter behind me, people enjoying themselves, I find myself
envious of their joy, their bliss.
My mind aches to know this. My eyes tire, pained and sore. I'm
too tired to think of anything to pass this dreadful time.
Strangers pass by me, staring, boring a hole into my soul. Meet the
eyes of the nomad, see a part of you which you despise. Try to hide
that which you deny.
Feelings of despair as I watch the dancing lights go by ... myself wishing
that I could be with them, wishing that I could somehow be a part of the joy.
It's funny, there's always somebody around to tell you what's wrong with your
life, and why you're not happy, but I guess it's always easier if you're looking
in from the outside. It's a lot different if it is actually happening to you.