everyday things

How can I tell the difference between being lonely and being alone? Is there a point in my life where I’d see... where I need to be?... Is there some place I could go to relief? For pleasure? For pain? Is there something that needs to be done? Is there something that needs to be done?
I can see that people pass me by everyday. They live different lives, go about their daily routine, not minding everybody else except them. Are they en-route? Following through with their programmed existence?

During lunch, every table is filled with magical nonsense. There are these guys that sit near the toilet, Filipino guys, that are all married, and all good-looking. They’d sit and laugh and talk for 30 minutes of their lunch and then they’d walk their separate ways. Was there real conversation involved? Real getting-to-know and understand? But if everyday they’d do that same shit, then maybe, they real ARE having a great lunch.

There are these girls in the office, when they’d walk, they are like giraffes. You can’t see their heads because they walk so tall all the time. Me, a puny ant, would smile at them and they’d just keep walking. I did that one time, and when they failed to acknowledge my presence, I let it go. I find it funny when people pretend to be something they are not. They hide behind their fabulous coats and keep the warmth in their hearts hidden. They only talk to people they know they are going to need someday. See, the air is different from way up there. Less oxygen, less brain activity.

And then there are these guys (and girls) sitting near us and look fine. Fine, by my definition, is casual office chic. They talk, laugh and eat. They see me and I see them. I have to hand it to them though, low-profiles in the office usually are the smart ones.

Then, there is our table. A bunch of crazy retards that have different backgrounds that came to mesh well together. There is this girl, in our group. She’s kindda kooky by my standards, but otherwise, I love her to death. She talks and talks and say stuff that sometimes I don’t get, but, it doesn’t bother her. She’s okay. Still a little childish sometimes, but otherwise okay. There’s the gay one, with his broad shoulders and good-looks. He is my favourite among the bunch. He stays quiet, usually, but slowly is integrating more and more into our cultured table with each passing day. I like him because his quietness when needed, is always present. He has a good head on his shoulders and is funny when need be. Then there is the married bunch, the triplets. Our own version of the chipmunks. The one who I always see is quite complicated. He’s funny, and not that bad to look at. He’s all fun and games and bullshit, but when you need someone to talk to, he’s the guy for me. He has two personalities, the one where you talk and he keeps saying okay (that, I know, when he’s not listening) and another one where he’s all charming and shit. He keeps me focused, centered and alert. And he smells so nice. Then the other one is our princess. Why? Because he is always the guy to finish his lunch. He’s sarcastic, cute and small. But really, when I get a chance to dig deep, I definitely know I’d find a great guy who’s love for shrimps is as good as mine. The last one in our table is the married man who loves his family so much. As far as I am concered, he’s reserved, yet funny, casual and professional. Tall and chubby, he’s the man who’d go out of his way for you.
And then there’s me.

(My point of view)
Me, I am this weird girl that always smiles. I am arrogant, self-centered and a woman. I take pleasure in learning new things, trying new chit-chat and I bore myself sometimes. I laugh and I easily cry. I am sweet and genuine and frank. I am impulsive and stuck to my Ipod all day. I don’t know... I am shitty and loved and hated and liked all at the same time.
See, I don’t know much about them yet. And still, we are happy with our little lunch meetings. Maybe, like all the people that I see are like that. Just happy that someone would acknowledge their presence when they are there, and even much happier still when they are missed. Even though we are not that close yet, we see each other. And probably, that is the difference. We SEE when we are in need. There is this need that drives us all to be seen, to be talked to, to laugh and cry with somebody, even someone as insignificant as a random person, or someone we feel comfortable being with. Being alone, I’ve always been there. It is my second home, my locked heart, my special place. Being lonely, it’s worse that being alone. Lonely is when something died and nobody there noticed anything new. Lonely is when you find yourself forcing something so special on someone that is not. Lonely is dreaming to die and witnessing it first hand and realizing it is not that glamorous. Lonely is when you are afraid and mistake plain for plaid. Lonely is just plain lonely.

I took time to realize, without making much of an effort, that with due consideration and flexibility, we can all not be lonely. Whatever that makes you get up in the morning you should seek. Be careful of those who love you. Be careful not to go to too much trouble on a particular instance. Be someone who want to be, and maybe then I can say I shall never be lonely.

A mistake is when people do judgement and hand out sentences when there is no witnesses.