Incognito

Cloaked in plain sight

He exists yet he does not live. He is a person yet he is nobody. Desires to be relevant but is rather unimportant. Seen but rarely noticed.

Time’s fire once raged a storm of a thermonuclear capacity. As of late though his flame has dwindled to nothing more than some smoldering embers. Suffocating in a bitter cold atmosphere. Seeing the precious oxygen he so desperately desires forever out of reach.

He has little in common with the world. Wanting to be included. Longing to belong. He desires al life where he can thrive without barriers. To open the adamantium gates that maintains his core’s security. To traverse this realm without his cache of masks. He would love to venture into a room and have at least one person greet him without the empty smile like a polite stranger would do.

Inherently polite and shy, he finds it rather difficult to just spark conversation with people. He does try though. He tries with little avail. What can he talk about? His knowledge of sports are negligible at best. Though he does drink, he is not by any measurable standards considered a drinker. Overall his existence is a dismal one.

When in a group of people he is usually the quiet one. You see he is not one to join in a conversation unless he has something pertinent to contribute. Rarely rude he is the kind of man who waits for his turn to speak. Yet when that time arrives he is interrupted and side conversations shall commence. Little respect is given his way. He’s the odd man out. The after thought. In vain he seeks a place to belong. To be relevant, but he cannot. The hand dealt to him certainly will not get him a flush. He is lonely.

The word “bitter” was used earlier in this tale.. This one word also describes his core as of late. Bitter and envious. Resentful and callous. Heartless and wounded. He gets these substantial urges at times to harm those who refuse to acknowledge him as a man. He has gotten to the point where he feels that if he cannot attain any measurable level of respect, then he’ll settle for their fear. Though he wants this not, he isn’t sure if there is another option.

He is a man. Spiritually broken. He knows when a cause is lost. He wants companionship. For someone to say to him that they love him. And not in a platonic sense. Nor in an infatuation aspect either. He wishes for someone to hold him. Look him in the eyes and see him. To truly see him and not cringe. He knows this shall never come to pass. Experience has taught him that. Women, like everyone else look through. Seen but not noticed. This journey he is on is one of solitude.

He tried to be more than what he is. To be noticed yet he remains forever incognito. He knows that when his life’s chaotic aria ceases, few will notice or care. The few who do will not notice right away. And it will have a minimum impact on them. This is his path. He’s finally accepted what has befallen him He freely admits that some moments are more arduous than others. He cares little anymore. He shall just deal until he hears the Toc-ticking of oblivion. Alone and unseen.

This man has a name even though few know or care. Some may know this empty shell and some may not. He has a name and his name is………….

Douglas S. Williams.