This rational way of thinking is abusing my intelligence. Jesus Christ, spare me your opinion of me, please! I don’t see a mirror when I look up at you on your high horse. I resent you for making me feel like I’m not entertaining enough to keep you interested. Your attention span for individuals is lacking and your compassion is questionable. I live for happiness, I live for sadness. I live to die. I live in repetition moving through space and time until my powers of observation fail and I reach my final venue. I’m a product of the new world looking for truth, no matter how perverse. Your lies I discover make the truth appear self-evident. Even so, I still find myself asking, “Is this for real? Is the disenfranchised renegade mistaken?” I’m exhausted from my efforts to capture and internalize this moment. My thoughts are connected but extremely elusive, stripping me of my dignity.