Reminiscing Myself
What is even more disturbing than being in a room with blank walls. A light emanating from an unknown source. Staring in the corner of the room you see a fire detector plastered to the ceiling. It's shaded in whites. The trim is the brightest, the most absorbent of all colors, Roman style. Or, at least it seemed to have a Roman aura to it. Alone. What's worse than this? It's having somebody else there with you, telling you how bad it is.
I'm not well acquainted with surface meanings. Putting together a story for what it is. I never fail to get lost in deeper meanings. This must be why everything means something more. Every little, seemingly insignificant detail, most people are too consumed to notice, I notice. I understand it for myself. I relate it to my life so that it has deeper and greater of a meaning. This is why everything means something.
Santa should be out tonight. He's got quite the job in these days, what with our population exponentially growing. There's just no way he could keep up, without help. Are these all the Santa's we see in shopping malls and on tv? Why my goodness, it must be. If I believe, then he will be. You see? All of these men are promoted and evolved elves. Elves evolve into Santa's. The Santa's are the seasoned versions of Santa's helpers.
Social death. To be completely vulnerable to surrounding people. This vulnerability is caused by inability to conform to social expectations of one's culture.
I am committing social suicide. I want to live the way I choose, the way that makes me happy. The way I choose is not culturally dependent.
I'm not well acquainted with surface meanings. Putting together a story for what it is. I never fail to get lost in deeper meanings. This must be why everything means something more. Every little, seemingly insignificant detail, most people are too consumed to notice, I notice. I understand it for myself. I relate it to my life so that it has deeper and greater of a meaning. This is why everything means something.
Santa should be out tonight. He's got quite the job in these days, what with our population exponentially growing. There's just no way he could keep up, without help. Are these all the Santa's we see in shopping malls and on tv? Why my goodness, it must be. If I believe, then he will be. You see? All of these men are promoted and evolved elves. Elves evolve into Santa's. The Santa's are the seasoned versions of Santa's helpers.
Social death. To be completely vulnerable to surrounding people. This vulnerability is caused by inability to conform to social expectations of one's culture.
I am committing social suicide. I want to live the way I choose, the way that makes me happy. The way I choose is not culturally dependent.
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