DITL - caalis

Portent is not a word that exists to me, and I dare not predict where and in what state I will be several months from now. I don't know how I'll feel on a day to day basis; on some days I live by the hour. Occasionally, one day turns out to be two for me. I stay up all night at least once a week, and my stream of consciousness flows uninterrupted for far too long. I never have a paddle, so I'm mercilessly buffeted into the boulders in my river that daily surface to slow me down.

A day in my life consists of observations of both myself (which are rather unimportant) and others. The trees are changing color, but as the onset of autumn approaches, I feel like nobody cares. Falling leaves form no more of an impression on some than breathing does. I see people too wrapped up in trivials and various other nondescripts, and I have the urge to run up to them, grab their shoulders and shake, screaming, "Open your eyes! The reality you have created for yourselves is wanton disgust!" Invisible, unnoticeable caterers prepare a feast for our minds, yet there are few who do not take this for granted.

Many a day I have wanted to run away from this world. Our mental prowess to create technological advancements will always be overthrown by humankind's purposeful, collaborative idiocy. We create in order to destroy culture, ideas, and each other. If, for one moment, I can make someone smile, my day doesn't turn out so bad. Where some choose to thrive on baldfaced insults to pretend that their lives are more important than another, my world and my happiness are cultivated by residual smiles of those people on which I am capable of having a positive impact.