[untitled]A Poem by Nathan Thompson
Previous Version This is a previous version of [untitled]. What is this place? Have you seen it before?
Didn’t we just leave this place?
Weren’t we just in a place with “bangin” music, where pale skinned and dark eyed people danced to a beat they could not follow, to words they could not understand, and with people who were as likely to mug us as dance with us?
Why are we here? Is it to drink the money we work hard to get, only to piss it away to the next morning? Do you welcome oblivion?
Are we here to chat up the questionable girls and fight questionable men.
Can you here the music above the noise? Can you smell the perfume of the girl your with above the stench of booze and vomit on the floor.
I do not belong here. I am drowning in a sea of verbal bullshit. Every talks about nothing and nobodies. They don’t hear each other, how can they? They can’t even hear themselves!
You can tell can’t you? You can tell that I do not belong here? Of course you do, I stand here with my drink of future piss, laughing at the right moments, never quite able to open my mouth and talk, always on the outside looking in. I do not join talks; I observe them and try to blend in.
Why did you ask me to come? Do you enjoy watching me squirm with discomfort? Do you think I deserve this, for the crime of not fitting in? For being quiet?
Or is it even simpler then that? Do you like me there to make yourself look good? Do you enjoy watching my futile attempt to talk to girls? How you laugh when my courage mounts enough to dance with a girl and witness the disgusted look on her face.
You can see how much I hate these places. The noise, the smell, the drink. Too many people, only one me.
I feel so lonely.
© 2008 Nathan ThompsonReviews
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StatsAuthorNathan ThompsonManchester, United KingdomAboutWell, hi there all...erm...I'm Nathan, I'm 26 and I live in Manchester, England (for the people who consider England too small a country to know where it is, it's that weird shaped one just above Fra.. more..Writing
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