 |
| I was fearless, once, mostly and sort of. |
 |
| I was romantic. |
 |
| I was a good lover, unselfish, good control, generous. |
 |
| I didn't care about looks or stupid stuff... |
 | ||
| ...but I wasn't prepared for the viciousness. |
part 2.
 |
| I had a real job, once upon a time. |
 |
| I was like the poster child for the company, a perfect fit. |
 |
| I liked the job. I was good at it and that satisfied me. My coworkers were nice and normal, not a lot of divas or ego, just competent people who wanted to get it done. It was a really nice bunch of years. |
 |
| But the company grew, became better known. There was a new poster child, now. |
 |
| Now it was like the school playground and all the little children were playing grown-up |
 |
| I no longer fit in, but I was naive and thought there was a way everyone could win, afterall it was about the job, right? |
 |
| It was ugly and poorly done... |
 |
| They were thorough. |
part 3.
 |
| I dated three women during this time period. |
 |
| In the end they looked more like this... |
 |
| ...well, more like this, actually. |
 |
| (...they seemed to have misplaced one small but necessary component...) |
 |
| I am many things, and I have many faults, but I'm not vicious. It is the viciousness of "out there" that finally broke me, finally finished me off, and I don't know how to find or fight my way back into "out there" because...because... |