Thursday, December 20

Edgy thoughts, one round table.

We're all sitting around this round table, everyone seems to be lost. My grandpa is talking about politics and another person is arguing with him. We're all somehow related by blood, but that's also where it ends. We don't know anything more than what we're called and where we live  about each other. I look at the guy sitting at the other end of the table. He seems to have problems, did he just go through a fight with his girlfriend? Did he confess his love to a girl that rejected him? It's always like that. I'd really like to know why he's so keen on this whole relationship issue. Why am I the only one who thinks it's a waste of time? My grandpa who was talking about politics stopped talking. His loud sigh reminded me to focus once again on the people sitting around that table. He himself looks lost. Why have I missed so many opportunities to get to know my own grandpa better? Why haven't I appreciated or cherished the time spent with him? I look around once again.
That woman over there doesn't like the food, but still compliments my grandma. She does that out of politeness. I think it's okay if she doesn't like it. I don't like it either. I realize I haven't even tried it yet, but I know I won't like it. I stay focused on these strangers. A girl my age is sitting across the table. She looks pretty and her thoughts are somewhere else. Does she know she's pretty? How many other people have noticed that but still chose to remain silent? I bet a lot of guys would love to call her theirs. Maybe she's in love? Maybe with the wrong person? Maybe not? Why is everything somehow related to love? The thought sickens me. I bet her parents aren't getting along well. She looks broken. Such couples shouldn't even consider the idea of having kids. They shouldn't give birth to children they would only eventually destroy. Too bad.
I look at that pissed off guy again. Meanwhile those adults start talking about politics again. I don't want to listen as such talks only provoke me. I look away to avoid the thought of having to explain why I still haven't eaten anything. Do they also think I look broken? I don't care enough to let them know anything about me. Yet I'd still like to know what they think when they look at me. Do they realize this smile on my face has become a habit and doesn't actually mean anything? We're supposedly one family but nobody really cares. Why aren't we sitting together like in those TV ads where everyone is so happy and cheerful? Oh, I remember, these were lies. Just like every other thing.

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