I have great ambiton's to be

lonely.

I have my lunch breaks in empty

diners, and spend

my evenings with the raunchiest

sitcoms Netflix

has to offer.

I have great ambitions to come

up with

any and all answers without

your help. And, as

incomprehensible as the

meaning of life

is, I like to think I'm cracking

the code. (At least

in the privacy of this mind

with no one to

tell me I'm not.)

I have great ambitions to hold

up my

body and my burdens like dum-

bells weighing a

thousand pounds on either side of

me. Because strength

I see as less of a value

and more of a

necessity, it sets me free

knowing I am

more than I appear to be, I

will bench-press my

baggage for hours on end if

that's what it takes

to convince you I don't need you

to hold my hair

back when I have too much to

drink.

I don't dislike people, I promise.

I dislike

needing them.

I dislike

pulzerizing them under that weight

of my existence which

I'm

perfectly capable

of carrying myself except when

I'm not.

I dislike

referring to them as "them", as

these imcomprehensible

things,

beings I've lost so much

touch with I can't remember when I

was

last touched, held, warm, happy,

understood.

...

I had great ambitions to thrive

in the

cold, at least freezing keeps you

whole

and intact (that

is, until you break). But sometimes,

melting doesn't

sound like the worst

thing that could

happen.