Searching for Undial

I can't seem to be anything but an utter loser on the phone anymore. Every syllable and uncomfortable silence from my lips just another torpedo sinking my ship deeper under the water.

I just wanted to hear your voice, to tell you how I was feeling. I just wanted to play. But all the words came out in some foriegn language, some unreadable dialect that made me sound like some simpering idiot, some blubbering teenager. And lately it's like that's the only sounds you hear from me anymore.

     ..and I know you hate it.

It's like I feel as if I've already lost something, and all I can do is stand here in the wake and try to will it back into being. But even as I do that I know that it's the worst possible approach I could take. Even as I am speaking I know that I'm somehow only making things worse.

           Hmmmmm, lets see... Vibrant, interesting people who adore me for who I am, or
           this tool on the line who calls me up but then has absolutley nothing to say??

I'm gripping, and I've got to find a way to stop. Because this isn't me. This isn't who I am. It's almost like I wish you could somehow find me off the radar, or see me through different eyes. Ignore the flames and flashing lights, and just hear the voice of the man behind the curtain. But that's not the way it works. This is something that I have to figure out. It's something that I've got to fix myself, before it's too late.

                   I should have never dialed that phone.

[Listening to: Buzzcocks

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