Exodusmature

So it's come to this, understanding who matters and who wants to. It came without warning, hit me quickly tonight; I've seen the ugly side of a friend. I've seen what hid in wait had I gotten closer when the opportunity arose. I've seen what clings to their habits, always ready to turn up. It is a sad truth that even as the air gets thin I still try to breathe.

This isn't the first time I've met with disappointment, and I dare say it won’t be the last. In fact the most intelligent words I can share are these: expect it, it knows your number. Disappointment is the smoke from the cigarette of expectation; it never leaves your clothes and you will always reek of its failure wherever you go.

It truly is a sad thing, as I already admitted, to know you've been let down. Even if they were just your friend, it's a disgusting find. Who wants that? It feels as though I was digging a hole and walls began caving in around me. I know I've done this before, but to be honest it hasn't felt just like this before. It's easy to say but it's harder to feel this way.

I guess even as a guy, I want a little of that fairy tale magic, even in a friend. I'm kinda scared that I'll soon be over it, this compelling search I'm on. Seems like the only half productive thing I ever do is talk. Tiger plays golf. Vader kills people. I complain. Everyone has a talent. So in this right now, I've reached a verdict. I've come to an honest to God understanding with my mental capacity and I've been found wanting. Call it an escape...an exodus...my exodus from the blank faces I used to know. I almost consider writing the truth about raw human emotional-opinions to be more of a job than my actual job. And my job requires a certain moral flexibility.

Especially when I say things like I don't agree with most of what people are saying about me, about anyone, actually. See I'm not exactly a normal neat nice fella. No no. I'm more of a 'you don't wanna know me' kinda guy. That's my argument to not holding onto a relationship, to not taking off my mask at work, to not really being Justin to anybody but me. That's my argument, and the beauty of argument is if you argue correctly, you're never wrong.

I know there are people reading this right now thinking all kinds of things? Good for you, think what you want to because the day you can’t is a day I hope I never see. My point is that you have to think for yourself. If you were told that plain old air was dangerous would you take their word for it? Exactly! So perhaps instead of acting like sheep when it comes to voicing our opinions in the open you should find out for yourself.
Few people on this planet knows what it is to be truly despised.

Can you blame them? I spend my free time fronting thoughts that start fights a hundred times a week. I work in a building where when people aren't working their spreading rumours, or gossiping, or simply telling someone how much they don't like that person. That averages out to about ten bad thoughts per person, which is about 400 comments a day. That's twenty-eight hundred a week. Just to get a grasp on that number, imagine if one of those thoughts went to one person. Twenty-eight hundred people. We're talking two jumbo jet plane loads of men, women and children.

I'm pretty sure I'm starting something right now. Re-read what I've written. It's nothing. Peanuts. It's not worthy in the eyes of argument. But it will start a frown, from someone, anyone. There is someone right now that doesn't like it. This is what I do. There's Attila, Genghis, and me, Justin C Jarry. The face of the human physique, the Colonel Sanders of honesty. Jack Black makes people laugh. Computer's blind people. I complain, a lot. Everyone has a talent.