faul larv

Dear Couples,

Please don't come in to the restaurant for dinner anymore. While it may be quite easy to seat you-- I find it oddly irritating that the two of you have chosen to dine together, and solely together this, or any evening. Simply because we serve dinner until 11 does not mean that we want you in here loving or fighting with or even eating and speaking with each other. Don't pull out her chair, or wait until he returns from the bathroom, and for the love of all that I know, don't share dessert. Don't push each other along without realizing it, but simply because your bodies are so insinct that you move your hands to backs, to hands, and back to backs. Don't let him take the bill, don't fight over the bill, don't match the clothes you're wearing, or the way you gaze at things as you walk out.
Please don't laugh at each others jokes, or catch me trying to hear them. Or catch me trying to do one of the following things: decide who is better looking, decide who is richer, decide who is younger, decide if I hate the two of you simply for being lucky-- or maybe not.
Couples-- because I have never been one of you, not really, and because, maybe in other ways I have, please, don't come in to the restaurant anymore.

Sincerely,
B.A.O.


FURTHERMORE:
some people seem to look at my life, take it at face value and find it delightful.
i regret to inform you that because i was raised this way, and because i look this way, and because i live this way and because i feel this way--
and even moreso, because you have no idea about anything REAL within me you wouldnt know that i should see a therapist, a chiropractor, and psychiatrist.

why? because i cry too much, i laugh too often, i have befriended an apricot, i remember every person i have came across, and because the pain and joy i experience is far greater than most.


[music is used as my misery and my therapy.]