Fair-weather friends are easy to come by. They always appear when things are going well. But when things get tough, they are nowhere to be found. This is part of the human condition. People are drawn to those who are having success. They want to be around that success. They want to be successful themselves.

Very often our authentic selves become lost during the helping process associated with other people. It's really not lost, but covered up over time. We lose our self because of the many choices we have. With these choices come different reactions which may or may not be coming from our authentic self.

Age is a funny thing. I realized that when I was younger I worried about all the wrong things at all the wrong times. The amount of self appointed stress was unbelievable for me. I tried to always do the right thing. I got praise for doing the right thing. But at the same time I saw friends of mine get away with the wrong things and find success. This brings up the question, "What is success?"

There is nobody more alone than someone who is in a bad relationship. Not a typical violent relationship, but one in which everything on the outside looks ideal. But what goes on behind closed doors in an entirely different story. Every day we wake up and prepare ourselves for what we are going to do. We shower, shave, shit, and pick out some clothes to wear. It is in this way that we are all actors. However, nothing is more lonely than having to act all day and night. This is where gray hair originates.

time

The loneliest people make for the best actors. In public they speak highly of their relationship with their significant other. But deep down on the inside they feel particularly alone. They are tired of the charade, yet cannot seem to find a way out of the comfort of it all; we get used to certain things, good and bad, as time flows forward.

Sometimes I feel like I am there, but I'm really not. I'm never really at home even when I am home. This is the only way I know how to be. Booze didn't work. Now the drugs seem to be working, but the doctor is nothing more than a dealer, a middleman in the cycle of pharmaceutical medications. I am tired of them. I am tired of the worry.

I often think to myself, "Why in the Hell am I here?" "What is my purpose?" These are ridiculous questions nobody can answer. Yet, knowing this, I still ponder these tough questions. The funny thing is: the more I think the less I get done. It's kind of a catch 22 situation. That said, I continue my quest of self discovery. I continue searching and living, looking for answers. I don't see how I can change now.