The Blackout

While the others scurry in fear, the dark enveloping the spaces, pushing them in the terror of paranoia, sinking in the depths of their imagination, we are here, relishing the feeling of light and artificial air, the hum of the gas-powered machine operating our electricity. I sit here frustrated, glancing outside the untraceable street I’ve lived in for a year and a half, waiting to see if a familiar face would satisfy my need tonight. Alas they walk by and not a single one looks my way. I am here, knowing that I have more than what I should. For a moment I merely want to be what everyone is. I want to have and be what everyone has and are. I cannot enjoy anything that comes my way if the others are suffering, staring at the lights we have that they don’t.
I would rather be in the dark with everyone else than be in the light alone.


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