Any Day/Disconnect

Everyday I walk into my bathroom and wash my hands.

Before I touch the towel, I scrub off the dirt with soap.

I had no idea I touch so much dirt everyday.

The dirt doesn't mean anything to anyone. The dirt is just tiny sediment underneath your feet and washing it off is a great inconvenience. You don't understand that the dirt is a milestone of your day.

Watching the droplets of water turn black, the quantity of the dirt is awe-inspiring. I live in a world that tries to cleanse itself, but cannot sterilize itself for the root of phrase it uses: 'dirty.'

Everyday I wash my hands when I get home, and the char reminds me of what I did.

I spent another day on the grass. I spent another day on my ass.

I was hoping for hours to pass. I was trying to not step on glass.

I moved to my right, people were near. 

I step to my left, more people steer

 further

away

They say I'm weird, creepy, scary, apart, unusual. 

I don't understand it. I feel normal. I feel alive. I feel different.

they just judge

no time to waste on thoughts

I find myself ashamed for being associated with these groups of imbeciles. I can't understand how they walk and talk and not spend a millisecond of their time being aware. 

I watch them. Most of my day is spent watching the people. If it's not them I watch, it's the clouds and the sky.

At their parties, they drink and cry. They scream and shout and tell themselves they have a good time.

I watched them, separate themselves from all the others. Groups of inebriated individuals pretending that no one else exists.

They are people. They are weak and harmful. They live to excel, no matter what your cost is.

I admit, I did use people. I used them, and I was never satisfied until I removed them from my lives.

I watch them walk by, and all pretend to not notice that anyone else exists. They just keep their heads straight, as if they were horses with blinders, carrying the jockeys on their backs.

There's never anything one could hate more than feeling disconnected from the people he loves, and the people that love him.

They matter so much and not at all. You can never remove them from your life, but you can always remove your life from theirs. 

"By my honor, friend!" answered Zarathustra. "All that you are talking about does not exist. There is no devil and no hell. Your soul will be dead even sooner than your body - fear no more!"