does he exist if no one cares about him
he’s the voiceless. the part of society where his voice are blanketed and his thoughts are hidden. he has much to say yet none leave his lips, merely hanging precariously on his tongue, almost dripping like the first dew of morning.
he knows that no one cares
his valiant effort to be heard will once again be buried under the cries of the significant. he is nothing in this society yet he doesn’t yearn to be anything.
they don’t like him.
people never seem to like different do they
he doesn’t think like people do. he doesn’t act like people do. he just isn’t like regular people.
when people first meet, they scan them based on their exterior appearance but he reads them like a open book – even if they’re shut tight he still reads them. he analyzes them – their personality, their thoughts their quirks. it’s an odd habit he must admit but he can’t get seem to rid of it.
he also avoids attention. he runs away from something everyone yearns for. he doesn’t like it. the feeling of hundreds of eyes on him or when people remember him. he doesn’t like it.
maybe it’s his fault for pushing things way but he does not regret.