I’m sending off my words to someone that might find them useful to where they make friends easier. I wish I had a golden ticket to give to someone who’s trying to make friends. I made attempts, feverishly looking, hoping, but I fell asleep at the wheel, growing attracted to stuff that seemed to matter to me more at the time, like visual goodness for which stirred interest leaving me smiling at the moment, content, only to find me crushing my tears into a pillow as I slept. I call these things distractions.
Distractions, of course, are useless like a piece of dried gum or a crumbled up piece of potato chip on a sidewalk. I found them to be curious enough to get my attention away from things that mattered - like making friends. Social akwardness was too awkward for attempts (although I was a willing participant to someone).
see, friends don’t look at old peices of potato chips or think of why old gum got there in the way people like me think. They interact with beings that speak the same language even though they often don’t make sense at the time they’re doing it.
Sense, in the way I look at things like this, seems to follow people who don’t think that sense matters. Sure, forced in a corner where subtle words of crap don’t matter at the time, they’ll be forced to make sense of the world - but why should they?
That’s the question. Why should people care about things that matter when things become easier and more care free by just babbling like infants who can’t speak - only talk. Like, like, like, like...
This is like true, I know this. There's this time in someone’s life where they started to speak. It’s clear - the language they speak which is common - but unlike gum, they don’t seem to stick to the others person’s thoughts. Meaning that people don’t go to sleep thinking about how their friends told them about such sillieness like gum talk.
gum. I don’t see gum as an action of character. I see it stuck to one that wanted to throw it somewhere in the first place.
Action fell asleep a long time ago. People would rather talk, standing in one spot as they wiped away a speck of anything, hoping that they might find the right time to interrupt someone else but not making time for the other to speak. That person - one that won’t even think about something like gum being stuck to something else - continues to look for another opportunity to splatter words of littleness.
Littleness comes from those that won’t stand up and admit that they were wrong. Wrong for spouting words that were’nt useful, although pretty at times. In a way, I think that the littleness of people makes us stronger so that others can spring into action behind the scenes.
Sleep you little nothings. Sleep like more thoughts will come to your head so you can spout more crap of real nothingness to your friends. I’d rather sleep fighting off distractions hoping that a golden ticket will come my way.
There are golden tickets out there - I must believe this because having friends would be more than, like, great.