the tapping

I am… quite possibly… living in a fishbowl. I discovered that tonight. Some people randomly come up and tap on the glass; they make sure you are still there… that you are still alive, but there is no real communication.

I am sitting here, in the Bean, watching all the other groups. There are distinctive groups. The ones studying, not pretending, but actually getting their work done, are sitting in the corners. There are ones who are pretending to study—they have their books out and open but are talking with others or are even just staring off into space. And then there is the other group—they don’t even pretend to study. They are loud and do not care who they are interrupting. Yes, I know, if I really wanted a quiet place to get things done I would go to the library or to my room or somewhere else… anywhere else. But, it is the people here that really make it what it is, whether I like them or not (that is not meant to sound harsh, or is it?)

This fishbowl feeling is not prevalent just now, however. It is everyday. Who actually asks how you really are? If people really did that and if people answered completely honest we would have many more deep and heartfelt conversations. People like to pretend that they are doing more than just tapping on the glass. “How are you? Really, how are you?” “How was your day?” “Are you sure you are feeling okay?” These questions are ones I get every day, but do these people really, truly want to know?

I have a few people who are the ones who put the fish food in the bowl.

Does any of this make sense?

The people who actually interact and ask the questions that need to be asked come in few numbers. I don’t need a lot of them, honestly. But, sometimes I just want to scream all the things I am going through to those who think everything is okay. Maybe I have an anger problem… that is quite possible.

Yet, here I am, in the fishbowl. Watching.