Not Worth Nothing

“I’m enjoying myself,” said the young man in his mind. Flying to the limits of his own atmosphere he reaches for the sky in his imagination. The party is around him and he is so in conversation with a group of people who actually get him.

People usually get him to some degree, but these people actually get him; to the point of having a wild conversation with so much depth that you’d be struggling to swim out of.
“I’m enjoying myself!”

He only said that because he was surprised, he was surprised and he knows that it usually isn’t so.

He can go to a party but what’s there really for him?

A couple of beers or a lot of beers, maybe a puff or two and then what? A couple of Deep and meaningful’s that have all been said or thought of before, great.

But he’s not dwelling on that, he can say what he needs to say here and he lets it out.

“I’m not sure about that, but what do you think about this?” And so on, to the point that even his brilliant conversation has lost meaning and he has whirlwinded out into an uneven playing field which will never give him the rule book or let him know even one rule.

“Play to find out” or “we’ll just play, you’ll catch on”

… fun.

So, he spirals to the same old conversations that show he has no real rapport with any of his friends and begins partying harder than usual, people are surprised as well now. You start to see their admiration, it’s showing in their eyes and growing in their speech.

The party looks like one of those American house parties that you see on bogus sit coms in their bogus houses with their bogus red cups. He’s not having a dig but it all looks fake.

He’s lost control now and is outside on the porch giving a hello to the garden with the contents of his stomach.


He stumbles back in and finds himself in a bed, not keeping it together at all.

A girl he pronounced his love to earlier came in to check if he was alright or maybe for a cuddle but he has no conscious.

That was the end of a night that was probably not worth nothing in the end.


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