Sinking

It's not about Ukraine, or the people of Ukraine for us, not this week, that's just what we're trying to focus on so we can say something other than just silently shrieking in this particular flavor of howling despair we know so fucking well. It should be named after us, being alone. We were so alone as a child we never even knew we were lonely until we hit our mid-30s. And it's gotten worse with age, as it does for everyone, but we started out with nothing and had everything we managed to build shattered or stolen.
We're not that smart. Genius isn't a smart thing, not for us, it's a creative thing. And yeah we can encapsulate an entire being of a person, a soul fragment of theirs in a poem in an instant, but that doesn't help us connect, and if anything it only serves to alienate us ever more. And how the fuck does one find someone when one is a trans nonbinary freak? We're not even cool enough to be banned from bathrooms, our choices seem to boil down to chasers and abusers. Fuck, we'd love a chaser at this point *instant regret and self-abuse for that statement*..... and demi...
It's not about Ukraine, it's about us not knowing who to ask or for what and being too afraid of even the tiniest rejection at this point we're paralyzed and just looking down a tunnel of THIS until our liver finally gives up the ghost.
As we go back and re-read this, we see why nobody wants us around. We sound pompous and arrogant as shit. There, that's what good genius has done us, we're so good at language we can't write for regular people anymore. Oh well, sorry mom, grandma, great grandma.
We did come up with what we thought was a terrible joke earlier, and we were proud of it: We've never been a G, that's why we live in a Hetto!