nothing really makes me happy.

Perhaps it’s an issue of perspective.  Never having a perspective other than my own, I wouldn’t know if it is my view or circumstances that are problematic.  Whatever it is, I have become complacent, and for once spring doesn’t urge me to "fix" it.

How much do I blame on someone else?  Maybe less that I should. 

But nothing can ever bring it back.  And sometimes, it’s all I want.  To go back to a time before this got fucked up.  Go back and reclaim my innocence.  I wish I could look people in the eye and see them as people.  I don’t see people.  I haven’t for years.  I see inferior creatures, barely capable of coherent thought, who are just wasting. my. time.  I see the vacant eyes and hear the boorish laughter and I know that they are different.

But I’m the freak.

It would be nice to trust someone.  I am defined by my shallow relationships.  Unable to trust, because no one will keep my secrets.  Unwilling to trust because no one is as cautious as I.

It’s a cruel world and I’m drowning.  But who gives a fuck?