Because I don't feel a part of it, not one bit, not at all.
In fact I'll go ahead and state it: I am not a part of life, I am not a part of the world, I am not a part of people. There's something missing in me and I am not connected.
And no amount of words will ever fix it.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
Ahhh, the famous feeling of societal, racial, geographical and cultural disconnect which proves you are, in fact, a normal human being (and, by implication, not some kind of mutant chinchilla).
I won't tut-tut and pat-pat and there-there, however, but I will remind you, in my characteristic way, that (wait for it) everybody here wants you.
Mr Kingsley, how is it you always know just what to say?
I put it down to those long years spent refining my art in a Shaolin monastery. My parents were killed by bandits, and I've come to America seeking revenge.
Post a Comment