You can call all the people in the world but it doesn’t make a difference if you don’t call the person you need.
Poet Without a Pen
Ben Bonkoske
-
dreams of me
Twelfth Night: Act 2 Scene 4
We men may say more, swear more, but indeed
Our shows are more than will; for still we prove
Much in our vows but little in our love.My whole life can’t amount to trying to impress my ex-girlfriend. I can’t live with the narrative that I am only an unrequited big nothing. But that’s what I live with every morning, noon, and night. And I’m supposed to be content with being a loser. Nobody makes me feel significant, and so, one might think that life is insignificant.
As a writer I do a whole lot of “soul searching” or introspection into the human psyche or the spirit. For as much thinking as do, I still have attention deficient disorder. But, it really gets exhausting. I’m not just talking about overthinking and looking up explanations on reddit. I’m talking about sitting alone with yourself for five years in the prime of your life in your hometown.
I’m so sick of looking at myself. I’ve been so sick of myself for so long. And no signs of change.
I don’t want to keep trying to figure everything there is to figure out about humans and this world. I don’t want to think about it all anymore. It just hurts, makes me sad, and reminds me of a time I don’t even think exists anymore.
Happiness doesn’t change facts, it just makes us forget about them. The problem is you can’t always ignore the parts that make life meaningful, however painful they always are.
P.S I think my ex-girlfriend has hacked my Spotify. So I’m crazy, too. But whoever is doing it, it isn’t cool to gaslight a person.
-
forgiven, forgotten, forever
The problem with Typewriter Tuesday is that sometimes you write a nice page of steaming dog shit. You can’t post that on the internet!
Well, another problem I have here on my hands, is that I feel sick to my blue little heart. I just couldn’t go to sleep without writing some words to annoy the world to sleep.
I think if we all look a little deeper, and a little closer to our childhoods, and who we actually are at our core – we are a little bit dorkier than we would ever admit.
I mean, hey, people can lose their cool when they meet me, and in a way, I get it, but like, I want the world to see me for how normal I actually am – just a sad, little, over appreciative Aries, Jesus man.
I’m sitting here, after midnight, with my little gut, and cheeto fingers, thinking about the fact that I am the exact same person I was in middle school.
A guy named James Rolfe makes Youtube Videos called The Angry Video Game Nerd, and I’ve been watching him since I was ten. I don’t have any of the friends I had when I was ten, besides him.
And years go by, and you fall in love, and years go by, and you are alone. But in a very sincere way, I am just that ten year old kid, whose got some friends, some love/creative interests, isn’t a great student, and just wants to drink cola and watch his video game Youtube show in peace.
That’s all of who I am in my heart. That’s as cool of a person as I really am. I have met thousands and thousands of people from all over the world, and I’m a unique, kind (occasionally interesting) person.
Nobody is saying I am better than anyone, but I can believe I am. I am smart enough to know it is not important to be important. It is important to be the best of yourself.
And I’m so happy to just be myself.
Love yourself if nobody else does. You know how you need to be loved – maybe nobody else knows that. I know you know I love you, Ben.
Ben Bonkoske is the author of two novels, Spoon in the Road, and Carolina, Colorado, California. He is also the author of two collections of short stories, Ten Zen by Ben, and Eleven Stories for 11:11. He lives in Chicago, where he likes to take walks.
B. A, M.A.T.
Ben Bonkoske 