Isn’t it sad when the only thing you have to nurture in life is your own self image? And isn’t it even more pathetic when that image is predicated on an infamous character of an unsolved classic crime?
“Look at me. I’m over here.”
“Hey! I’m in that picture but you didn’t cite my name.”
And isn’t it even sadder when you have to bellow on social media “Look at me, look at me, I’m over here” when the response is so silent it only serves to validate what I have been posting for years, to wit: Nobody cares.
To those who are so self-involved with nurturing the only thing that gives them self-gratification and meaning to being, I say: Look over there. Look over there. A sad and aging visage bellows in the dark and endless tunnel. A series of failures, a partner who won’t commit and another cycle of long-term unemployment. The shriek-infested soul leaves pock-marks upon the landscape of a narrow life stuck and stagnated. No one wants to look at that. 😉
As an unrelated sidebar notation: I don’t know which is the bigger mystery: What happened to Flight MH370 or why Fall River doesn’t have a Gay Pride Parade. You be the judge.