I befriend but never with the same person. Other people are stored beside bits of the last person, completely unrelated and unable to access the parts of my memory taken up by the other fragments. Someone I need is stored in small percentages littered across my memory. Parts of everyone are being stored away and forgotten. But we aren't the same pair excited to see one another. I'm a little charmed and pleased to see someone. But none of it is reliable or complete, it's fragmented and inefficient. I can watch pornography or fantasize over intimacy. I can have thoughtless contact mean nothing to someone else meanwhile it's keeping me up all night. I could gaze into a person's eyes and feel nothing. I'm very fortunate to even have these very occasional spurts of affection, but it's not enough. Repeat that scenario and change the identity of the person I come into contact with, only this time I reciprocate all her affections with no remorse and walked away glowing. Someone has been excited to see me, we hugged and held hands, in this moment I felt a little shy or uncomfortable because I didn't want to lead them on. I do have a mostly unrequited chase that spark that I feel that the other doesn't. I could have arguments over nothing with someone who lacks every other quality necessary in a lover, fortunately I don't have that part of a couple with most anyone. In it's place I have several relationships that collectively would make up one whole girlfriend.
So this space in my head and in my heart is wasted. Rather, none of the relationships I have are the one in particular I'd like. The storage space I've long since reserved for one person is instead taken up by several incomplete relationships. I've had this concept in my mind awhile now that I have one fragmented relationship divided among various females. And furthermore: Data fragmentation occurs when a piece of data in memory is broken up into many pieces that are not close together. The term is also used to denote the wasted space itself. As defined by Wikipedia: In computer storage, fragmentation is a phenomenon in which storage space is used inefficiently, reducing storage capacity and in most cases performance. My love is more than the sum of all of my fragmented relationships. If they manage to spot me, they'd be made uncomfortable by the apparition I've become an old soul without a vessel to express my yearning. I can not reach out to my old friends because they will not recognize me. I'd be the walking dead if my existence wasn't under a spell of vertigo. I am only seen in impromptu visits if you don't live or work with me. It's questionable whether I'm really alive or aware of my Sisyphean search for someone who doesn't see me. I am on the same plane as everyone else but if they don't see me they don't know that. To text me is to look for me despite my apparent lack of existence. My co-workers just presume I'm drinking with friends or conversely, my friends presume I'm working. People don't know where I'll be unless they ask me.
#WALE THE GIFTED INTRO FULL SONG SERIES#
Not even time for the occasional co-worker relationship consisting entirely of a series of hellos and goodbyes.
We can't stop and commiserate, not like in the days of life. I'll drift on by and through buildings to hear the moans of others. It's not that any of us are celebrities but this is just the way things go. They speak like somebody I know but their identity doesn't register, they're pleased to even see me still roaming the Earth as if I had a choice in the matter. It's another lost soul, an experienced one that can take on the form of a human being but she's transparent to me. On the train somebody calls out to me and I face them. I call out their name but they can't hear me. I see a familiar face pass before me and in the moment it takes to register their identity I pause a moment before pursuit. I haunt the streets I used to walk, the buses I used to ride, and the institutions I never really belonged to. The world only ages slow, almost a still life. I must've died though, it must've been years since a body actually occupied this place. This is where I sleep or where I thought I've slept. Dust covers the surfaces of everything here. I moved a chair in my room and noticed some cobwebs between it and the wall. I'm a lost soul searching this world for something I left behind.