On the corner.
Slowly losing their shape,
Gaining their despondence,
Watching as time neglects,
Smiling only when faced with the prospect of future,
What if I was normal?
What if “normal” had a definition?
What if we could meet the one who defined it?
What if normal is just a projection of the mind?
Hi.
There are, more than a few, thoughts running through my head.
Along with some Watsky music, obviously. Who could forget that.
Well, actually, that’s not too surprising.