What's a...serious side?

Once in awhile, I stop trying to develop my own 'character' (which is like trying to stop a flood with my bare hands), and work on developing 'fictional characters'. So I go to the my Mind Gym for a workout...it's fun there and a great way to exercise. Mental gymnastics? Dumbells included? Gosh, I'd be right at home.

Anyhoo, I took a writing class awhile back (I can see 'disbelief' written all over your face), and worked with fantasy characters like: Mortimer P Snodgrass, the fly on the wall, etc. I won't elaborate 'cause Sylvia says once in awhile I can be a little 'over the top'.

One day, I was sitting thinking (which I find is relaxing) and the idea struck me...."Why don't you try writing something 'different, dummy." Trust me...my imagination and me had a 'discussion' about that one later. I don't like being struck.

I wrote this. Why am I posting it? Dunno. Why not? It goes like this...

Lost and Alone

by

John Victor Crocker

Alone is being an only child in a town where you are not related to anyone...except by marriage.

Alone is having no friends of your own that you can phone or who phone you...except by marriage.

Alone is sitting at a gathering of family and friends and feeling like an outsider because everyone is talking about things that you were not a part of...but they were. You can contribute nothing to the conversation. So you listen...and everyone thinks you are...quiet.

No one knows you...because no one knows what's in your heart...no one knows the tears that well up inside. You are alone for you have not one to share it with. You are boring...and alone. What excites you does not excite others. And you listen to their excitement.

You feel the tears but they are translated as anger. Hurt is what you feel. Alone and alone and alone. Who can you talk to about these things? No one. So you think, and your tears remain inside. The only way you can release them is by laughing...and you are deemed a fool. Dumbie they call you...weird one.

So what is different? You have felt lost and alone all your life. Your life has become an act...and you don't tell your truth because you are afraid you will be misunderstood. Your mask that you wear remains a 'mask'.

Sometimes you have hope. Where are the smiles...for you? You know that you are loving...but others see you as cold. How can you explain? Can you sit down and talk about your deepest feelings? No...you are alone. Together with others...but alone.

Alone has become your middle name. You join groups and conversations and try to be an insider but always you are left with the feelng of being an outsider. You have your passion and it is the one thing that is left for you.

You have so much love to give and yet you feel...alone. It is always, always, in all ways...you who are alone. They don't understand you just as you don't understand them.

You talk at people..but have lost the art of 'talking with someone'. You miss that. You are a romantic with poetry in your heart but still you are ...alone. You want to shout to the world, "Here I am." But you sit on the sidelines watching others. At sometimes you feel helpless...other times you're angry. Why can't you say the right things and make them understand you the way that you try to understand them.

The soul of you, is the soul who knows what it is to love life and be alone. Now the only way you can write is to be.. alone. "Alone isthe creed you live by and the flag you bear. It is hidden in the creases in your forehead and no one cares.

You write because you must. It is the only way you can express yourself and the love you feel. Even if it is taken wrong...it is something you must do...alone.

And then the dance class was over. My fingers got a good workout doing the cha cha across the keyboard. And now I'm going to have some ice cream. That was fun!