Learning to accept being a loner.

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I have thrown in the towel. I no longer go out to try and socialize and I can’t let myself be constantly deciphering how to unlock and connect with others. This is not in my province as a badly formed man. Blank expression and corner dwellings are my habitat. Nighthawking with my cup of coffee across from couples and other visitors. Taking in the view like some other visitor like¬†Johansson in Jonathan Glazer’s ‘Under The Skin.’ I choose to quit. I choose to be a spectator. I choose to be a drone. Rather than have it foisted on me by my shit life. I will be the stranger in the halls and in the malls and in the stairs sitting in chairs. I’ll just watching. I exile myself now, completely. The human circus is a long and boring one and I have no interest either way in where it goes. All matters will now revolve around my selfish well being. Hazard lights blinking. Stay away good people. I might bite.

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Learning to accept being a loner.

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