This still counts if I post it on the very last day of October. Happy Halloween. I was hesitant to post this. Depression is a bitch.

Whether it’s pure coincidence, metaphysical weirdness, brain chemistry, or yet another example of my moral failings, the roughest time of the year is upon me again. I have a pretty good previous month to look back on, but that doesn’t matter. The veil is thinnest here, the one between my insecurities and happiness. I’m haunted by my mistakes, supposed and otherwise.

But, I wrote a poem. And it started off with

Between Deftones and an oat milk latte and still flying high from Janelle Monae

I stopped caring.

“I Wish I Could Float”

And maybe it will stick this time. The Not Caring (Too Much).

I thought it funny to have my birthday party on the last day of September, technically Libra season, but I also declared that month my Birthday Month so y’all can’t be mad anyway. I suppose it’s my way of demanding space from a lifetime of feeling like I’m always someone’s backburner afterthought: whether it’s being dehumanized by society, de-prioritized by algorithms, simply ghosted, left on read for a month, or the consequences of setting myself up as the Low-Maintenance Person Thing.

Some of it I’ll just have to live with. We all have busy lives, some more busy than others, and as I keep saying: the years since COVID-19 hit the scene have been particularly tough. Answering texts isn’t exactly as important as trying to survive. I allow grace for that; to not would be hypocritical of me. And some folks just don’t think about me as much as I think about them; I can’t change that but I can adjust accordingly.

But I can be mad at say, Facebook, which only exacerbates my loneliness.

Because I’ve forgotten that we are alone by default.

Perhaps this is just me rationalizing my sometimes-crippling desire for closeness. But– hang on– wait– you can find a whole buncha quotes that have a more positive spin on that concept. A quick Ecosia search spits out a few by, like, important people or at least people with really recognizable names. I especially like Welles’ thought on the subject. I even reblogged it on my Tumblr once, with a graphic from Final Fantasy XIII. Trust me, that combination worked.

We’re born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we’re not alone.

Orson Welles

I’m currently in the process of crystalizing my own “spin” on being alone and/or lonely. Put simply,

I’m open,

Show up

or

Don’t

“I Wish I Could Float”

That is definitely a work in progress. It’s just a touch too flippant. I need to convey something softer, too, and that not everyone gets such an invite– only the ones that give a shit about my existence.

I was an only kid for the first decade of my life, so I’ll be alright. And I’ll be okay in the end, because in the end we’re all alone anyway. But that doesn’t mean we all can’t keep each other company.

I’ll let you know where I am– especially when the “being alone” is revealed as “loneliness”. I’ll reach out when I can, from off-hand “I’ll be here, tag along?” to “We haven’t got lost in IKEA for awhile, now” to “date me, you walnut.” If you’d like to spend time with me, that’s awesome. If no one responds I guess that’d suck.

Keep me company. If you want to.