To hell with the new shit, whether or not you think you fit in

I don’t know if we’re programmed to be blind, indifferent and sheep like.
But I know we’ve got our faults
So we’ve got a world, with people telling us
How to act
How to dress
How to be beautiful
How to be:
Insecure

There’s a comfort in being complimented, and there’s albeit redundant, a greater comfort in being complimented more than once.


Djdudgdh
I have so many things to say.
A word to define
And yet syllables
And sentences refrain from forming

I’m still too boring to tell people what I think.



****

I sketch invisible monsters in my notebook and wonder if the world could ever look this way again.
Class is mundane, and the only spectacle to be seen (besides my pterodactyl hovering in a pattern of blue lines) is the pink hydrangea on the window sill. I feel compelled to comment: “It reminds me of Tuesday’s With Morrie” but no one would get it. At least I don’t think so.