It's lonely beneath these grey, muddy skies as we shiver in the streets waiting for the goddamn bus to lurch up to the stop.
A grandma has her bags, heavy with food, medicine, and miscellania that means little to us and everything to her. No one bothers to hold them for her as she struggles to sit down. I would if I were actually noble and contact wasn't so reviled.
We all wait in welcomed, imposed, and despised silence:
I say nothing to no one and no one says anything to me; all is as it should be. All is right in our modern civilization.
The bus gives a pained grunt as it moves to the next destination, causing me to lean back into the man behind me. He tolerates my breaking of the rules for the two seconds it takes me to straighten myself. Besides, when the bus screeches to a stop, I will tolerate his breaking of the rules when he leans into me.
Neither of us can help it, it's physics. Amoral and pedantic physics that cares nothing for our race.
The bus finally manages to drag itself near the library. Close enough.
I continue my way to the quiet palace of paper and start ascending the stairs. Up and up I go, getting slightly winded and feeling a soft burn on my buttcheeks and thighs. The student walking down doesn't so much as glance at me. Looking at me would break the rules.
Finally, I slink up to the roof and close my eyes as the cold once more presses its dull, biting blade to my skin. The birds yell at me but I pay them no heed.
I step over the frost-water puddle and stand towards the edge. The clouds are as constant as ever.
I hold my arms out and the wind immediately sighs to embrace me. Finally. A bit of company in this lonely world.
"Girl, what are you doing up there?" someone from down the street yells up at me.
I don't so much as spare a glance at him because I don't want to break the rules.
"Miss, you'll fall!" a lady worriedly tells me.
So now they decide to break the rules? Yeesh.
"Step away from the edge!" someone angrily commands.
I flip her off. Fuck you, I don't take kindly to being yelled at.
Someone burst through the door, causing me jump and nearly lose my balance. A few people at the bottom cry out.
"What are you doing, girl?" the stranger gently asks. "Come back inside, maybe we can have tea and talk."
I don't bother to respond, instead eyeing the concrete below. Dirty snow, as hideous as the heavens above, lines the sidewalk. Why is everything so gross here?
"Come on, don't be like that," the stranger says. "Come back inside where it's warm and we can talk. I promise I'll listen."
A part me yearns for that actually. Apart of me wants to sit down and make a new friend, but then I remember reality. At the end of the day, friendships fade and people stop caring. The only reason why this person even acknowledged my existence was because of the mess I'm going to leave. If I just sat there and studied, s/he would only see me as another piece of furniture in the library. Instead, I just stand there, paying back the kindness s/he would show me if I had just did my school work.
It's lonely in this world, where it's a rule to never help or touch or speak to someone. It's lonely back in my apartment, where only the spiders are there when I come home. It's lonely when friends eventually lose touch and families engross themselves in their own dilemmas.
If I cannot fulfill the basic need of having someone, may as well not bother.