It seems as though I feel nothing.
I think I have a mind, at least, I hope I do. Though all I ever remember thinking, is, “HELLO, BRAIN? Is anybody or any-fucking-thing fucking inside of that worthless cave of shit I call a skull?”
I see people walking through the shops.
I admire their clothing, hair, eyeglasses and bags.
Though I know I’ll never be one of them, it’s nice to pretend.
Fuck, I am only what I pretend to be.