Mulling

I've been feeling that way again. About it all.That hollowness I though I evaded so long ago in the hallways of college has found me yet again. I thought this job would fix it but I fear it only made it worse. I no longer have any time to sit with myself so I am left with an unwell sickness in me that continues to ferment with each passing day. I don't know I'm being poetic, this is stupid.

I saw the civil protection outside today patrolling the entrances to the court yard, talking about something in a casual manner, though I could only make that out from the slight gestures they glanced towards each other, I was far too up in the complex to hear anything aside from those faint and faded murmurs you hear from a conversion you weren't meant for. Both were wearing the standard civil protection garb of Gabboth: a white field jacket with a grey chest rig covering only the chest. In addition, they wore baggy black cargo pants, tucked into black military boots. One rested their arms on a shotgun hanging off their shoulder by a strap, and the other was sitting on the edge of a curb next to a clunky box, looking similar to a portable radio. Judging by the straps, it looked like their backpack. They were gathered around the tree in the center of the courtyard, the only tree in this neighborhood, and seemed to be on their break. I've seen them gathered around that tree for awhile now, about a couple months. I wonder if one of them just started this job and they found a new place to take a break, or if they've always been here and just decided to make their new spot in the courtyard. There's a part of me that wants to go down there and join in on them, maybe ask for a cigarette even though I don't smoke. Not because I am particularly interested in their job, more that I could just talk to someone outside of work. Well that isn't true. I do have a friend group, though they are online; I don't get to hang out with them in the conventional sense. And maybe its for the best, I would be terrible at socializing. Though I feel like I don't belong there anymore, but I don't know if its my fault, their fault, or no one's and it just a consequence of getting older. They're good people, or I guess they try to be good people. But I feel like I'm missing something. Or maybe I'm just getting fed up. I feel like I'm ranting so maybe I should take a step back and clear my thoughts.

There is two people in the friend group, Bill and Dolaris. Bill was born in Port Rene to a family of fishermen. He originally was planned to join in on the family business, with his parents even home-schooling him so that he could spend more time working on fishing. However, on one fishing trip, Bill slipped and fell down a flight of stairs, breaking his back in the process. He was bed ridden for quite some time, and had no friends being homeschooled; it was the perfect recipe for a lonely kid to join a chat form. Dolaris was born and raised in Black Falls to a merchant family. She had a rather standard upbringing, but from an early age was inflicted with the Corruption, like myself. We originally met up in a chat room back when I was in highschool. I never really was able to make good friends in real life. I had terrible social skills and felt way more equipped sitting in front of a computer than doing something like having friends, I guess that's why I took this job huh? Anyways, I found this group when I felt all alone and it felt good you know? To be in a group and to feel loved. I felt happy. But that was ages ago, back when I could tolerate what they talked about and what they said and tell myself it was alright because they loved me and that they were good people. But now... I don't know. I don't know, maybe I shouldn't talk about them like this here. Maybe it isn't right.