Incoherent Obscurity

"Stop, I can't do this. I'm not in the right mood. I'm going to fuck it up. It's not worth it. I really don't have the energy to do this. OWWW. Leah let go of me!" I begged the prodding hand that was nudging me towards the door. Unfortunately, she, like everyone else I used to love, would have none of my excuses. She was the type that believed that with enough conviction anyone could overcome any obstacle, including laziness. Such a trait had begun to be seen as the ultimate flaw by anyone I had ever known to exist. So much so that it began to be an excercise to even try to remain useless. It would seem that all my efforts were in vain and that no matter how hard I may have tried to be so, I would have the need to do something forced upon me.
Even if that something is resisting something else.
So much for personal freedoms and everything they entail. I would pin the root of the problem on the fact that no one really could understand that my views would have it that sometimes living well entailed not living at all. Well, really, not living as anyone else would see fit. I really didn't see much point in trying to overcome somethng that had so obviously made me who I was. No matter how many people I might have frustrated in the process. It no longer mattered much to me how many people had lost the will to associate with me, how much I might have alienated myself, how many of my friends has dropped me like a dead weight on a sinking boak. All for the good of the crew, right? A vessel struggling for the right to even stay afloat, let alone thrive, that's exactly what they had become. The ill fated thing that was our circle of friends really didn't have much hope left of a safe arrival at their destination. It's not like anyone even remember where that was, or that was what they were together for.
What ever.
It's not like it was even my circle of friends anymore. Our. Ha. There was no our in my world.
Their would be a better word to say it. But for some reason there is still a twinge of pain each time I further dissassociate myself from them. I can't even really remember what the exact moment was when I began to see through all of them. To hate what I saw. To be disgusted by their pitiful attempt at getting by. At being "true". Pathetic. All of them. But still sometimes when I truly thought about it I wished I could be more like them. Able to forget. Able to pretend.
Perhaps thats why I had come to hate them.
Thinking back I think that might have been the reason. I just wish I could have seen what was coming. Wish I was able to stop the night from falling.