Scuttling and Scurrying

[fiat_knox]

To the Mundanes I see all around me.

I see you all.

I watch you as you scuttle to work, and scuttle back and forth to lunch and back to work, and scurry back home or down to the pub.

I observe you as you scurry directly home from work, straight to work from home; and I watch the worst of you as you get out of the house in the morning to stumble onto the bus and, once you arrive in town, lurch straight into the JD Wetherspoons to begin the day's hard drinking regimen that has become the sole focus of your lives.

I see you chasing the pounds, chasing your own tails, chasing after oblivion.

I see it all, and I can hear the voices inside your heads.

I hear them all, screaming.

I am not surprised. If I lived a life as pitiful as this, I'd be screaming, too.

Comments

[prettyarbitrary.livejournal.com]

I'm not upset, myself, but I think the problem people are having is that lots of us--even weird, extraordinary people--look like the Mundanes you're describing, and they feel like you're judging the book by its cover here.

Some of us blend in on the outside and carry all our uniqueness inside our heads where you can't see it. Heck, there're days I walk around glassy-eyed and blank as anybody, because I'm not even paying attention to anything but my thoughts.