Here is the unnamed guy series part 2, spiritual successor to the unnamed girl series; which is already complete, you can check it out here. I’m curious to see where this story goes from here. You’re in, yeah?
The cost of being real. No one ever explicitly says it.
You lose everything — you start to question yourself often
Questioning whether you ever truly had anything.
Passing me compliments? Please,
Send those through an indefinite quarantine process
Not everyone means what they say.
And you’d be a fool to think otherwise.
I’m not the hero, nor am I the villain
But I wish I was. That way I could have a role to fill,
To be subservient to the idea of purpose —
Maybe then everything would be a little easier
Seeing everything in black and white like designing a zebra.
But that’s wishful thinking
Once you see much of what this world has
It’s hard to go back. I find love at the bottom of a bottle
The circle that touches the coaster embodies the closest I’ll get to a ring
I don’t mean to get esoteric, but blame that on the formation of language
Never would I spoon feed my struggles solely for your entertainment.
Reality is a fabric I’ve since threaded with my own visions
Took time, but I finally have a picture of God behind my eye lids
They’d call that blasphemy but that’s precisely why I’m not in a church
Look at them, open-minded when the pastor is behind the pulpit,
But as dull as a brick as soon as anyone else speaks.
Double standards like incels and toxic feminists.
I stand at the border of what you have yet to understand
I say this politely but, no matter how tempting, “don’t push me”
Yes, I would fall, but you would be the one to die
Loveless nights, sure — but no one ever said freedom comes free
Fall in love and have a mansion full of kids in peace
And while you’re at it. Speak nothing of me.
I don’t owe anyone but the creator my time.
People threaten to leave like I can’t live without them
You would have had better luck when I was nothing but an infant
I spin my words and meanings into a reality I deem fit
Keeping madness at bay as best I can.
Tomorrow is another day — Another day I get to choose
Another day I get to choose whether I want to go through all of this again or not.
So, until then… ….
…. …. ….
– O.D. ©2020
Art by: StephanePellennec