I'm not unhappy, but not happy either
I'm somewhere in between
If this is bliss, I don't like it
It's too stiflingly static
I'm a social butterfly, a butterfly,
a pretty thing who's loved for that very sin
But I flit here, there, everywhere
And nowhere do I fit in
I have friends, friends and friends
And yet, no friends
Just people who are a means to an end
I see people objectively
Emotionally unattached and distant
It's a strange state of being
Unemotional, yet not unfeeling
Like a doctor cares for a patient
Clinically, but not empathetically
It's a conspicuous emptiness
Unsympathetic yet not hostile
I wish there was genuine hapiness
Behind my ungenuine smile.
Friday, January 30, 2009
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