no one seems to realize, that i'm more like them than they think- but at the same time, alien [from a planet much like earth, but without the people]

something tells me to involve myself, but its impossible to interact with things you don't feel attached to [like how noses don't seem to stay on busts and statues]. i'm on the verge of falling off [my bed]

i have high expectations, but at the same time not willing to work for what i want. is this hell or what, to never be able to feel satisfied? [this sandwich tastes moldy, my shoes make my feet look big, i need to cut my hair every other week] this feeling of incompletion will probably linger in my heart for the rest of my life since change doesn't seem to be particularly fond of me [even though i've been waiting forever, with open arms]

is there a definite boundary [drawn with orange chalk on the sidewalk] that once you step out of, you are then viewed with contempt? the distinctions are so ambiguous yet clear [with my new glasses- worth 300 thin rectangular fiber pieces called one dollar]


because i'm a subtle person, please take what i don't say into consideration. i don't care for seashells i throw back in the sand because i just don't like it, but i'm careful not to break it since someone else might like it more than i do.

[i feel so very sad when i wake up at night with no blue skies or singing birds to greet me]