I am. Socially indifferent. Socially… unmotivated. I ignore friends and enemies alike. I do not have the patience for people. I do not have the patience for immaturity.

I want. Sex, love, kindness, stability. I want intelligent conversation. I want sarcastic and biting humor. And yet I want to hear a deep, soft voice that knows when to joke and when to soothe. I want to be close to somebody. Even if it’s only one person, ever, for the rest of my life.

I want the fierce needle of Truth. I want to cut away all the theory, all the corruptions of academia. I want to cut away all the misnomers of society. I want to cut away the mask and see the Truth, the reality hiding inside.

I want stability and freedom. I want love more than I want sex, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t want sex. I do, but sex alone will tear me apart. Sex alone will change me. Sex alone is a parasite that festers, grows, and overcomes entirely. I cannot have sex alone.

I want to meet people that are like me. Not people who love music, or love boys, or love math, but people who have an innate desire to dig deeper. To understand it all. The universe, where we come from. And how to make it all better.

Our world is filled with art, immersed in art, inundated with art. Art conveys emotion and feeling, but art does not cure those emotions, and it does not change those feelings. If anything, it makes them stronger.

We need. Less art. More Truth.

I need. Less sex. More Love.

I need. Fewer acquaintances, fewer games, fewer emotions, less overanalyzing, less thinking.

I need. More Real Friends.

I need. More Getting Done.

I like you. A lot. But please don’t follow me.
I don’t swim fast enough, or long enough. Or strong enough.
I will let you drown.
And if it means I must always be alone, then let it mean that. Because I can cope with my aloneness.
I can cope with this heaviness. I can cope with this sadness.
But I cannot cope with your drowning.