Ideas circle over the lost desert of our mind. They feed off our confusion and innocence. We sit hunched by our fire, lost in this wild landscape of possibilities. We remain unsure of how we must behave. And for every action, or inaction we take, these vultures squawk at us until we submit to their ways, mering our wills as one.
“You must wear appropriate clothing in public they say!”
“You must dislike Linkin Park they cry!”
“You must be brave, beautiful and brilliant they demand!”
So we cave to cave to their words, and cry as we fall short. We bring upon ourselves such imaginary burdens. For when we delve into the root of these ideas we see them fading like whispers in the air.
So you know what, I will, at least for today, refuse to bow down to you.
I will proudly walk to the local grocery store in my blue pajamas to buy a bag of banana chips. Then, comfortably ensconced on the couch, I shall engross myself in video games, while my brush, books and bicycle rust in the corner. Alone I will do all this, companionless and undeterred. And tomorrow, the day after and how ever many more, I shall repeat this “insanity”.
Because all you are is an idea, a figment of my imagination. And an idea should not stop me from being happy.
So with all due respect, fuck you idea.