perpetuated indifference freedom and fleas cats in the trees loving the grass and twigs between my knees and toes and fragments in my hair my clothes and on a day such as forever I spoke to another terribly, not so good at words with others who say words back, pretty little polka dotted circles and nonsense like who are you kidding? Individuality is not a crime though faking it is, as if being unique is even unique but another copy of another a thought already thought shush up kiss like a real person not a slobbery monstrous adolescent, but like a man who knows or at least cares, but not about the earth crusts on my skin or the air in my finger nails it's all me and if they can't like it can't love it in any way that can be considered love or positive in any form or shape or sound or purpose then forget to forget because sometimes one is ****** up and enjoys a little game of brain bashing insecurity, until that day when one becomes self-actualized (oh please) and then real forget and freedom may happen. How boring.