Rabble rabble

by maddrunkgenius

I know I’m not an important person to most people. Well, to anyone outside of family, really. I’m not especially unimportant, either, but largely, I am either some guy or simply unknown. This is the way of things, the way of the world from time immemorial.

Rationally, of course, I’ve known this for some time, but the more life goes on and I return to places I’ve left that are gettting on as good or better without me, I feel it. And I don’t like the feeling.

I don’t have any reason to return anywhere, and they don’t have any reason to want me to. I knew them in a certain time and place, and our interactions were pleasant and comfortable, but once I’m removed from the situation, life just goes on.

When other people do it to me, I’m probably more rude than most. I don’t mean to be, it’s just the consciousness of it gets in the way or something. We don’t relate anymore. We were only tethered by our common circumstances and that is forever gone. What reason should I have to talk with you and pretend otherwise?

You grow up as a child and there was nothing in the world before you were born, nothing important anyhow, and people treat you as if you’re the most important person on earth. Then you grow up a bit and things get behind you, and a new group of young people comes up with more promise and receives more attention and deserves it more. And what are you left with except acceptance of reality?

What a height to fall from and a depth to.