Disclaimer: I don't own emotion; I rent.

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The world is falling to shit, and Mark is there.

Mark is always there.

Somehow, some way, he always manages to have a front row ticket to the end of the world.

Not because he wants to…

But because he needs to.

Because Mark is a listener.

A shoulder.

A friend.

And at the end, those are the ones we want with us.

Not the fixers or the party-ers.

Not the philosophers.

Or the insanely religious.

They don’t comfort.

Oh yes, they try to support – to heal – but in the end, they just try to change things.

Change everything.

But by that time, it’s too late for change.

Mark doesn’t change.

He watches; he listens.

He comforts.

And it eats him alive.

Because he doesn’t want to watch Roger die. He is sick of doing nothing, of letting life “take its course.”

Roger got AIDS because Mark watched.

As he drank and smoked and partied.

As he shot up.

If Mark had just been something different – someone different – maybe it never would’ve happened.

Not that it matters now; Mark can’t change the past.

Mark can’t change anything.

Mark observes.

Mark survives.

That’s all he can ever do.