part of the unraveling process

It seems these days, people are more interested

in talking about themselves

then when listening to anything I have to say.

Now, maybe that’s because what I have to say isn’t

all that interesting or isn’t relevant to their lives, or maybe

I’ve just been talking to the wrong people.

I realize I’m not the most charismatic guy in the world;

if you looked at me at all, it would probably be because

you were about to bump into me

and if you did happen to bump into me

and you were in a particularly charitable frame of mind

you might apologize or excuse yourself.

On the other hand, if you were in a hurry

and on your way to meet a much more substantial person,

you might mutter something angrily under your breath

and question my navigational skills or think I was

just another clumsy daydreamer or drunken vagrant.

Not that being so forgettable is not without its advantages.

For instance, nobody will ever look at me and call me a leader.

Or yearn for any of my belongings.

Or fantasize about what kind of lover I’d be.

Or wonder if I’d make a good husband and father.

Or want to pick a fight with me.

Or pray for my salvation.

Or bargain for my soul.

Or lay their head on my shoulder.

Or recruit me to join an adult softball league.

Or ask me for money.

Or solicit an opinion from me.

Or seek my advice.

Or need me to do anything at all, really,

except maybe get the hell out of their way

so we can both go our separate ways.