I would feel ashamed, if there were not this beautiful flower blooming and growing within me. It is not rebuke. It is confirmation, of something that I must have once known, or should have known, or thought I should know, but somehow buried and corroded under the mindless erosion of…
Of “this is us, and they are them.” Of disdainful looks, of raised eyebrows, and mindless sighs of annoyance.
It’s woken up, that knowledge inside me. I feel free now, to be me, and to see, and know, and feel, way beyond the mindlessness beyond me.
The crossing guard waves me through, and I smile all the way down Lexington.
I’m almost at the library. There’s an unkempt man who’s usually there, speaking to everyone and no one and someone at random moments.
If he’s there, I’m gonna smile. And I’m gonna see way more then all those people see. Cause he’s not just them. He’s us, too.
After all, we are all cookie-cutter folks.
Cast from one mold.
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