It is late in the night. Thoughts are ruminating. I am sitting at a station in the dark, and alone. Wondering and pondering,
I put forth a poem to my thoughts.
With a spark
Guess what. Another round of woe from longing for kinship, connection, uniting. May be that I should just disappear from social media, social activity, to keep me in oblivious bliss. I promise, I had started an entry draft the other evening regarding gratitude for good in my life. Much.
Where did this round of woe appear? This evening, Wednesday, April 26th, I participated in the 2nd Annual Boxers & Beers fundraiser for Bismarck Cancer Center. Leading up to the event, I posted queries asking friends for someone who would either sponsor me, or decorate a pair of boxers for me, or just join me in the fun. Crickets.
So, there I was. Working the crowd on my own. Not knowing any who came for to see me. Jealous much? Witnessing the other gents working the crowd, surrounded with friends and acquaintances. I held my head high, and worked it. Slayed.
Walking the runway, it is fun. It is great. What would be great is to have a group of friends in chorus bidding or shouting. Enthusiasm.
Fifty-one years on this planet. Fifty-one years of growing use to the notion of being on my own. Fifty-one years of longing for connection. Kinship.
Yes. Yes there are connections. However, I am here this moment discussing the cricket response for when I request connection. Being the first choice for someone to think of when they want to attend an event. Being included in a group attending and participating in a function. Not having requests for someone to join remain ignored or regrets for not being able to join. Someone who just wants to come on over to just hang out. Simple.
Fifty more years. Will the second be the same as the first? What pray tell is so wrong about wanting these types of connection. Teach me how to change the course. I want to learn. Lonely.