Embarrassing Embarrassment

Still alive, what plight. I have met many a person who has added something and nothing. A woman running away from her abusive boyfriend. A tiny, pathetic, unimportant and self aggrandising little shit of a man. This woman talked to me. She told me she was accused of being “embarrassing” by that little vermin she allows to penetrate her and care for her offspring. As she walked into the bar she was presented with nothing but greetings and the care of people who know her and enjoy her company. Still, all that her mind could retain was the judgement of a weak man and her insecurity about his state of being. We sat, we talked, I listened, I forgot. Of course I forgot. Why would I spend any sort of time or energy retaining the trivial plights of someone who engages in a masochistic game of “oh poor me”? She knows not of what she can bring. Knows not of her value. She has failed to view the glory and rarity of her existence, and I do not care. This is not some special thing just for her, I care no more. I am glad to not. I am released and free of any predisposition. She reminded me of a reflection. Something I once saw in myself but only through a distant glass. Something thought true yet in reality only a fallacy. I am ready. I am waiting. Wanting? No. I want nothing other than to be left alone. To fade into whatever ether I am deserving. I want to pass. Pass on to find whatever is next. I know I do not know what will come. I don’t think anything will. I am ready for it though. I am tired, fed up, sacrosanct on the fact I hate. Hate and hate and hate. This place drives me mad. I’ll stay. Let us see how crazy I can become. I think I’ll have another vodka.