"Your machinery is too much for me."

A beautiful woman once inquired if I am indeed a sociopath.
Her deep brown eyes were accented by her dark eyebrows, raised sadly.
At the time, I wasn't sure what she was looking for. Her eyes constantly scanned me,
waiting for an event to trigger, to burst out from the abyss.

I came to realize, that she was searching me for a semblance of humanity.
For a tiny spark of emotion, for evidence that I wasn't the cold, calculating individual I mask myself as.

I don't think I ever gave her that evidence. She gave up searching, and to say she was alone in this defeat would be a lie. My mother battled this with my father for a long while. And when I inherited this syndrome, she could no longer bear to pry.

"Your machinery is too much for me." Her last words to me still echo in my skull. The pixels dragging themselves across the canvas in my mind. My machinery? The modern man and woman are anything but human, and yet I am labeled as a machine?

We are all machines, as we aren't. As our hard drives click, and our hearts beat, as our servos whine, and our joints crack... We walk the
Earth all searching for humanity in one another. Ever contributing to the slow metamorphosis into the inhuman.

I am human. Fleshy, warm and soft. But, are you?

Life is too short to not stop and take off your clothes with strangers once in a while.

Her black lacy bra lay at her soft delicate feet.

Her olive skin shimmered in the moon light, as she stood there...
Lips pouting cupping her breasts with a towel.

She was amazingly sensual, touch was completely unnecessary.
I stood in awe for a moment.

We'd just talked and agreed to meet at the small beach.
Her bare skin a detail my subconscious forced me to disregard, to avoid crashing my car in a daydream.

She walked towards me, hips gliding, almost like she was dancing. I was mesmerized.

"Hi."

I was overcome by nervousness. And yet, I managed not to stammer out a greeting. Well, almost.

"H-Hi. How are you?"

Her deep brown eyes were staring into mine, with the slightest hint of shyness. They were caring, soft, understanding... beautiful. They spoke tomes about her. Behind them, I saw she was sad. I could see the deep sadness behind her gaze, and it saddened me to discover it. We're all damaged, I suppose. And, no amount of outer or inner beauty can save us from it.

"I'm good. Definitely not drunk enough to be standing here naked."

I chuckled.

"I'm not drunk enough to handle you standing there naked, if it makes you feel any better."

Her broad smile gave me the confidence I needed, and I stepped closer. She took my hand and we walked over to a small bench next to the oddly placed beach. I heard splashing and laughter, and saw other scantily clad people dancing around in the water.

I kicked the gravel surrounding the bench. The rocks clicked and clacked like marbles.

"This is a pretty weird beach. I don't think I've ever seen it before."

She played with her long brown hair as she talked.
"Yeah... People walk their dogs here, but it's public property. It's called dog beach."

She reached out her arm, and her towel threatened to fall from her otherwise bare chest.
"That over there is private property. But, I've snuck onto there too."

"Quite the rebel, aren't you?" I smiled.

"I try."

We were then joined by the rowdy group of people from the water.
Their shivering salt-water covered bodies coursing with alcohol and nicotine.

There was something they had that I was jealous of. Not once before had I ever stood naked on a random beach, or anywhere.
The freedom to do something like that, stray away from good judgement or rules. Just do something, and quit thinking.

My lifetime up until that point had been throughly weighted decisions, calculated actions and logic. I never felt at peace with who I was, and could never let go of what people might be thinking of me. I was never able to just let go of everything.

The nearby streetlamp cast an orange glow out over the beach, the coastline in the distance glimmered with the same hue of orange. I stared off out into the coast. The lights painted themselves across the water, shimmering as it moved.

"I've never actually skinny dipped before..." I said, with a bit a shame.

Surprise.

"Well, then you have to." Said her friend with a cigarette in between her lips.
"I'm not going to encourage another guy to get naked, but you probably should."

I looked into her eyes.

Standing there, with the girl I adore and people I've never met before. On a public beach, in summertime.

"You know, what... Fuck it. Why not?"

It was a question I could've answered a hundred ways. (Why not? I'll tell you! Wait! Listen!)
My inner voice was yelling at me to make up something. Some reason to escape the situation.

But, I wasn't ready to defeat myself again. I walked down onto the cold wet sand, and started to remove my clothing.

"I'm definitely not drunk enough for this." I muttered half for her, and half for myself.

And we stood there, in a circle in the water. Clutching our bodies tightly, trying to keep as warm and covered as possible.
It was satisfying. With no regret, I stood there. Such an event might seem insignificant, but it wasn't for me.

Life is to short too not stop and take off your clothes with strangers once in a while.

Hello 2010.

I used to lay on the sides of highways and watch the cars blur by me.
Laying in the in-between. Just observing.

There was a certain point I realized that life moves just as fast as the movie montages.
That flashes of moments standing by those you love are exactly what they seem. Short bursts of beauty.

A great sadness overcomes me when I drive those same highways I used to walk. Sometimes seeing my former self, for just a split second. Waving to me from oblivion.

I'm moving much faster now than I ever could have imagined then, and yet somehow I long for the never-ending summer days.

I long for the days where I used to be able to willfully love someone or something unconditionally. I long for fruit flavored popsicles and long walks along glass-ridden shores. I miss not being afraid of anything, and not constantly thinking my friends deserve better.

The great stretches of asphalt and street lamps, are my past-self's safe haven. And while I may visit him sometimes, I know that I'm someone else now.

My family is all there now. Much younger, all smiling. Waving to me, for just a split second. I'm sorry that life...

The only excuse I can whisper in their direction. I'm sorry that life had to be this way. That I'll never be what you needed, that you're all equipped with the same devices to feel as I am.

But it does and it is.

Hello, 2010.

Sleeping With The Fishes

Sometimes I stare at blank screens.
For no reason really, other than that their calm unchanging nature is soothing.

People can be so turbulent sometimes... So harsh and distracting, it's hard to remember why I attempt to be with them.
But, of course like anything, there is good with the bad. Being a lonely misanthrope seems awesome when you're around idiots.
Once you're actually alone, it's not as glamorous. Trying to find that balance between getting lost in my book-ridden fantasy world, and the world outside my door is tough sometimes.

Years of this attitude has worn me down to accepting other people's shortcomings, while not forgetting my own. Being an elitist, pretentious bastard will only work for a certain period of time. Eventually, people call you a hypocrite and you feel like one, because you are one.

This random blather brought to you by: Breaking Writers Block Incorporated