I Define: Do i matter

Oh. It’s 2,293 now. I wonder why it’s not 2,294.

Someone probably got tired of me. But that’s 1 out of 2,294. It happens a lot; shouldn’t I be used to it.

I look at my phone. I don’t ever delete anything cause everything is important. Everything is a record. The diversity of names make me feel good. Overwhelmed. But good. I can’t keep track of everything though. But the effort means not everything slips through the cracks doesn’t it?


I define myself by parties. Every weekend, I feel like I’m wasting my time if I’m sitting in the house by myself.

But most of the time, the wasting only happens when I’m sulking cause no one’s invited me anywhere. When I get up and call around, the wasting ends. Because even if I’m not home, I’m still lucid. Just as lucid as usual… there’s no need for any enhancers.

I travel around the room. I shake hands. There’s no need for professionalism here. I’m just doing it for human contact. It’s an odd thing. But no one hugs anymore and really means it. If I shake your hand, it shows I respect you.


What does human contact help me do? It helps me remember names. And as the night goes on, the names expand to bring meaning. I remember faces. I remember facts. I remember events. And I try to remember if I made them smile. To feel like I belong.

Quantity doesn’t mean quality, but quantity is what gives me quality. I don’t know why it isn’t enough; why one deep conversation still leaves me hungering for more. I have them more than the average person. The amount of people I’d invite to a birthday party is far, far larger than my apartment can take, but not my heart. I care about everyone. I care about everything.

I’m the most outgoing person in the room. I’m the most sociable person in the room. I couldn’t stop knowing and meeting and caring about people even if I tried.

But that’s how my worth is defined, unfortunately. It’s my safety net. If I never make a difference in this world otherwise, at least the sheer magnitude of people who’ve seen me, who know me, will matter… will it not?


Like I said, who needs any other type of cliched millennial mood enhancers?

When things go wrong, I drown myself in human interaction. I smoke laughs and complaints and exclamations. I drink nods and hand gestures and head shakes.

I lean my head back in a cloud of delirium when I hear another voice, feel another presence, sense another being next to me.

I’m not okay with being alone.



I don’t need to stay on this Earth forever in writing. I’m shooting for the temporary satisfaction. I want to be known by all these people, in the short-term, who will die anyway. Because if I worked harder on my writing and nobody remembered me still, then I’ll have sacrificed time spent being known for a few short minutes.

I write when I’m at my lowest but then I know someone will read it and I’ll be not alone. Yay! Otherwise, if I’m insecure and unsure, I’ll probably show up at your house with food and an unspoken “let me talk to you about problems that are surface-level but hide the true craving and dependency inside”


Do I matter? No. And yes. No, yes.

If you put them together it’s “noyes” — hey, doesn’t that sound like “noise” to you?

Noise, noise, noise, it’s the opposite of silence. So No + Yes is the answer.


So if you want to add to my toxicness, help me fight my demons —

Like everything I say on Facebook. Share every link I find important. Comment in response to my thoughts and feelings.

Let me know what I already know but what others ought to know how to help me know.

I don’t matter. Or, I don’t think I matter anymore. I’ve never fought anything clinical. I’ve fought monophobia though. Is that any better? Is that any better than feeling like life is pointless?

Instead, you’re walking through life knowing why you feel so empty, knowing what kind of poison feeds your existence. My reality is I wave to say hi, but I also wave because I’m desperate to be saved. So say hi back.


Here’s to that.

Here’s to a longing for a tomorrow that looks not different than the one I have now, but a tomorrow that will at least make me feel better and not need this drug anymore.

Drink up. If you’re reading this, I’ll drink up.




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