hrm.

i was thinking there’s a loss of originality. there’s no surge for creativity left in our souls are there. there are those tiny little eccentricies that drive those tiny little people but insignificant as they are much more meaningful will the their lives be. we , of the corporate ladder. we of the books with their studies, of the medical instruments and their sharp edges, we of the padded bank accounts and warm comfy beds lack. lack in life. lack in the riches of riches. lack the walks in the dumpsters, lack the dark and dirty alley ways where’s stars are found. lack the grunge needed for prospering. the prospering of the mind. we lack the profound ability to find, uniquely, our comedy. there’s an intensity lost in our seemingly ordinary stature. we are to be great entrepreneurs, doctors lawyers the like but always seem to fall short. yes, we may reach the great heights describes to us by those willing high school teachers and money mongers but we fall deeper below the depths of meaning. we miss that instinctual ability to wander about youth and it's generosity. to feels it's backlash in pain to caress the beauty of spontaneity. we are uniform. they are handmade. we are mass produced, they are one of a kinds.

and since when did it become we.

since when did i become mass produced...


since when was i synthetic.

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