Theo class boredom

It’s November 22 already. Can you believe it? Time is passing me by like the winds missing its beat, unable to hold the strength of its own forcefulness. I am so human today– more flawed than I have ever been, distorted and confused of the right way for me. I just want to be. The taste so delightful I keep coming back– addictive; boisterous– is it wrong? Am I wrong for just wanting to live? Can God understand this need, my decision?

* * * * * * *

I wish I could read minds. I wonder of the depth of the thoughts of those around me– strangers with little emotions on their faces– masks I wish we never had to wear. I wonder of their fears, their foolish dreams, the shallow ideas I know occupy the spaces of their brains, especially the deep ones– the darkest, buried like a dangerous fire, afraid to consume. I want to know what their lives are made of. If maybe people are like me at all.

The most interesting of them live out of boxes. I can’t truly name a single one. I am dying for answers.

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