Imagine that you are trapped inside the paraplegic body of an ugly, fat and balding man.

You live alone inside a filthy, government-subsidized, single's apartment on the bad side of town.

You have no job.

You're on disability.

You have no friends, no family, and just now, no beer.

Consistently inconsistent

and in a constant state of

discomfort

the blades of change

carve out new routines

within the status quo

selfishly wishing to disconnect

but afraid of what it feels like

to be unloved

Knowing others are the only reason

one would bother to trudge along

the mundane

day to day

depressing

hopeless

fuckin pointless

tasks we assign ourselves

to feel we do something of value.

Roles like

mother, friend. brother,

caretaker, lover, employee,

confidante, rock--

I never realized I had been

fulfilling the role of

token friend who

is an emotional mess.

You're supposed to surround yourself

with positivity

but even positivity can only take so much

of someone who is down in the dumps