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Brain Screams: Vents Open

by The Quiet Zubat

The Quiet Zubat Blowing off hot air into space.
Solitude is something valuable. That's what I tell myself when the people I care about don't have time for me. I used to think of it as a matter of pride, being there for my people at the drop of a dime even if we hadn't spoken in months. That's what being a good friend was all about. Unconditional support and love despite different interests or opinions. I wanted attention so much I would do anything for the people who gave me their time. Unfortunately, to a special type of predator, I was a choice catch.

It was easy to turn me into a puppet, a shell, a hull for entertainment as long as I thought I was bringing happiness to someone I cared for. The drug of being what someone else wanted was a strong addiction. Like many drugs, it was toxic, gnawing at my health and I knew it but didn't care as long as my fix was satiated. Risks only grew as the relationship drew on; selling myself to strangers, hustling dangerous people, using innocent people...until life as a dancing puppet lost its luster. The acts I'd participated in simply for the entertainment of one person were cast in new light. The puppeteer was working on a new toy, I would never be enough.

Looking back I question if there were really strings controlling my limbs or if everything I did was something I wanted as bad as he told me I did. Now I isolate myself and suffer loneliness rather than risk falling for another addiction. I want to sleep, but vivid dreams don't offer rest. I want to fall in love, but the trip might just kill me. For now I'll just keep singing The sun'll come out, tomorrow...