How can you change me when you don’t even know what I wear?

(Bernhard, when does the paragraph end? Kafka really wants to know.)

          Photons falling in the form of light, sunshine is a delight until it melts your favorite ice cream and the forensics foretells your inevitable capture and arrest, but I protest that ignorance is not bliss yet you swarm like a succubus trying to feed off a corpse, riding a dead horse is the fastest way to not go anywhere and I no longer want to share, be a member of your membrane. I am not insane, in fact I am the only one who is lucid so stop playing cupid with my heart and your philosophy that three plus three must equal six. I’ve watched you play your pick up sticks and realize I no longer care to partake in your reindeer games and if it is all the same I will reside outside your pied that lets you proclaim diversity in your monotone circle. Go ahead and wear purple whatever love and acceptance I hoped to find amid your collective mind I realize now can never be without assimilation because you protect yourselves with platitudes disdaining my attitude born of a species that does not contain DNA. All I’m trying to say and I can’t be anymore plain is that you live with your refrains and I view a verse less world. Mother Mary was a virgin and Doctor Kevorkian was a surgeon who separated life from the living and all I’m urging is you do not play upon my vulnerability, a need for love, by thinking I could ever think like you and make thoughts be a litmus test that I could join the rest when I stop being someone no one could love; a lone wolf lingering in the loneliness of a forest you slashed and burned with your limited perception only allowing the seeds to germinate that will bring forth pleasant presentations. I do not need you to acknowledge my existence just realize there is a direct connection between what you allow to be relevant and the feelings that I am therefore unlovable that this leaves me with. So sit around your fire pit, the eyes glowing in the darkness will be mine. My only mistake is ever having sought acceptance in your fire concentric circle when the truth is I am nothing like you and your perceptual puzzle containing only three pieces you claim to be complete even though the box is replete with the other 9,997 pieces you say do not need to be considered. (And you say I’m the Existentialist)

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