Perhaps

The fact is that I dont like to believe in anything. Don't like to expect or look forward to anything, and thats what beliefs lead too right?
To be honest I know that the happiest and most inspired times in my life were when I believed in something completely. Or someone. But my heart takes that belief and while soaring with it, is also depressed by all the moments between miracles, when you wonder why you believe. You curse yourself for it. Most of the time those beliefs converge. They produce. Sometimes they don't but usually.

And in an objective way it would be better to ride that up and down than always be down....

I've been saying all this for years. Seems I still have no faith. And while I suddenly want to believe I'd have to decide who it is that I believe in first.

What is a trial of faith if you don't believe in anything?
Perhaps it is an endurance test of the soul.
Or perhaps it's just a mirrored room: no beginning, no ending, no directions, only reflections and repetition. 

And a hope that there's something outside those walls.

Consider

How local is the scale of human existence...

Nowadays I'm more worried when a friend doesn't call after a night out than when I don't hear from my brother in several weeks...

Imagine simply and completely subtracting a random friend from your life.

Then imagine almost subtracting everyone.

Naive

Naive of me to think that when you say "one" I'm not going to go home drunk.

Naive of me to think that the people I quietly care about care about what I think.

Naive of me I generally believe what people say.

Naive of me to believe their promises.

I'm beginning to think this is a character flaw.

Recap

I want a Korean funeral.

I have been played by many girls, and was totally oblivious.

Is it possible that the person beside me is not connected to me in any way?

My religion is not something that I share.

God, how old am I?

I will save the water for now.

Simply I should stand beside my friend.

Who will stand behind me?

How could they? I don't let them.

Dammit, I should let go of that regret, that anger. Suddenly I'm back in high school, angry at my cousins, at my grandmother. There was nothing wrongfully done. Only a selfish angsty fright that something was missed when I arrived only hours too late. Dammit, I loved her. But I was too young to really know. Just enough to wish I'd listened more. No one even says her name anymore......

Is that why i can't remember it?

Just small, wrinkly hands... the day I hugged her and was taller than she was..... a couple stories.... the way she teased her sons about their grey hair..... her raspberry jam..... the way she liked comics and the way she helped prepare the halibut, a visit in Alaska...... the cookies...... her smile..... and the way you'd never guess all the repression, the trouble she'd lived through. No one talked about it until she

God, how old am I?

I'm still here to give her my water after all these years.

Things are getting complicated

Yes, well, they always do, don't they?
You make them thus, you basterd.
Luckily you're not surprised.
Just tired.