A&Q

Fellow Humans, I have a question, a question that has plagued me for lo these past almost ten years of my life. A question that even to this day (and inevitably for the foreseeable future) which befuddles my mind, throws into doubt the way I think the world should work and concerns me regarding the destiny of humanity as a whole. A question both lacking in and saturated with profundity that people ask themselves the same question in one breath and then wonder why they would ever think of it the next. Even now part of me doesn't want to bother asking the question because I know there are two fundamental answers; one which defines the human condition as it exists now and the other which describes an ideal humanity has had in the past and (hopefully) can obtain again in the future.

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Damen is next.

The Doors Closing chime snaps Dayne out of his trance. He sat for who knows how long, staring blankly through the train windows, barely aware of the people filing in and out of the car. Where was I the last few seconds, he thought to himself. An answer did not present itself. He slowly blinked his eyes into focus and turned his head towards his fellow passengers. He noted each individual's expression, tagged them with the names; 'nice smile', 'big nose', 'pretty eyes', 'high-maintenance', 'great legs', 'curly hair', only briefly wondering why he only gave names to the women.

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one cigarette

Smoking at face value feels like removing yourself from what's going on, the angst of the moment seems to melt away. However, it is quickly replaced by the worry of the rest of the moments.
One puff; one inhale, one exhale.
Removes being afraid of being late, being afraid of being found out. Removes the worry of not liking what I'm doing. What replaces it is worse. Silence, of being alone. Alone, always alone.
One puff; one inhale, one exhale.
This place really sucks. Why do I hate being here, why do I hate all of these people, why am I still here? I'm so bored and so anxious at the same time.
One puff; one inhale, one exhale.
Why do I still love her; how can I bring her back to me.
One puff; one inhale, one exhale.
She doesn't think of me, I don't want her really, I'm meant to be alone.
I tear up.
Quickly puff; inhale, exhale.
What if people find out I'm a fraud; when will they figure out I don't want to be here; I don't want to do this? I'm never going to find anyone who wants me again. Did anyone actually love me? Do I always have to be alone? Is there even a choice?
One puff; one inhale, one exhale.
I'll be okay, just another couple of hours left at work. Then I can go home. Two more cigarettes before I leave.
One puff; one inhale, one exhale.
Go home to what? More Alone. TV. Computer. Video Games. Nothing to do. Nowhere to go. No one to call. Just more alone. No friends to see, no girl to love me, to love me.
I tear up.
One puff; one inhale, one exhale, this didn't last long.