I used to love parties.
I made a choice to no longer use alcohol,
which is a glorious, social lubricant.
It allowed me wonderful fantasies.
I obtained grand illusions, no realities.
This all lead to my confusion,
at parties and elswhere.
I went where the drunken crowd,
clucked away their precious moments,
like mad hens...so loud!
Is there no end to this prattle?
I am a now a voyeur...I write it all down...
all the vulgarities I see.
I enjoy the masquerade, of these clowns.
Their masks are often mis-laid.
I am afraid, when their true selves come out.
They give me a bout of anomie.
This isn't for me, these parties, you see?
But I go and observe, I must sound absurd.
At these social meetings, I take my beatings.
I wave my greetings.
I put on a macabre, smiling face.
The smile is made in haste.
The brain addled crowds, make me shriek out loud.
I should desist!
I do nothing like this.
For, social conventions...
I must maintain my attention,
and be there to please,
I get down on my knees,
for the approval of those,
with fancier clothes,
Those with monetary means,
and fancy machines,
which help me construct,
the fulfillment of my dreams.
This is a means to an end, you see...
where I won't have to depend,
on attending parties,