I stood looking up at the stars, those tiny pinpricks of light in the velvet darkness reminding me how insignificant I was. I could be anyone, anywhere, looking up, dreaming, smiling, crying, breathing. Anyone and no one. Try it sometime. Look up at those stars and tell yourself you’re special. Look up and tell yourself how amazing you are. Better yet, tell the stars. They wont listen, they don’t care. They’re not going to give you a standing ovation just for breathing.
There’s your reality sunshine. No one cares. You’re the most important person in your own little world, a legend in your own lunch box. But to the stars? You are nothing, You are less than nothing. Does the phrase: ‘amoebas on fleas on rats’ ring a bell? How about: ‘The only man a girl can depend on is her daddy.’ No wait, back that truck up, that’s a whole different set of issues.
Where were we? Nothing. That’s what we are. I know it, you know it, we just don’t like to admit it. I hear you whining, they do care, they do! I just know it Tinman! Lie to yourself all you want. Do I look like I give a fuck? I’ll say it again, no one cares about you. They care about what you can do for them. That’s all. Your feelings? What are they? What you want? What you need? No. How can you help them. How can you make them feel. That’s all.
Think about it. Who listens to your problems? The therapist you pay? The bartender who wants your tips? The hairdresser who can’t really hear you anyway over the noise of the hair dryer? Your friends and family? Don’t make me laugh! Pay close attention next time you ‘talk’ to them. No one is really listening, they’re just waiting for their turn to talk. They wont help you, they’ll just tell you about a time they had a similar problem, or someone they knew who had that problem, or someone they’ve heard of who had the same problem.
You might as well talk to the stars. At least they wont talk back.