Waiting for the Bus

today i'm a walking curse,
with a bright neon purse.
i sit, i wait...;
a catatonic state.

strangers so absent-minded;
they hardly notice.
thoughts to myself,
i am engulfed by the frigid embrace of a meaningless existence.

i sit, i wait...
moments pass by;
there goes a glance that can never be understood.
there goes a a smile unnoticed.

What Would you Name Your Penguin? A Real Philosophical Question.

First off, I'd name my Penguin Pele... maybe Gangrene or Chode.

College is a funny thing. You pay hundreds of thousands of dollars to get what out of it? What exactly? I didn't know before, but I do now... You pay for it to get questions like "What would you name your Penguin?" on midterms. Why? Because it's a reflection of life; every detail that we associate ourselves with... like naming your penguin for example... is a reflection of who you are, what you're about, and what you'll end up dying for.

Inflatable Rafts

... if only life had some sort of floating device to hold you up when your head is about to go under water because it's all too much to handle. Like an inflatable raft.

The Cliches of Home

Why do we often miss where we come from?
Why do we always miss the little things we never really once appreciated before?

We can say right at this very moment that we don't care about anything or anyone. Right now.

Across the galaxy and some passage of time later... it's almost a guarantee that you'll be reduced into the most human of forms. Homesick, irrelevant, and desperate to get back the doldrums of familiarity.

... Then again, I've thought this out. Just for myself.

How will I ever show my appreciation for where I've come from?