Human Ziggurats and Their Strange Exhibitionism

When the cat said it kept its own counsel, I felt that in my bones.
What can we sell? That is all it feels like. And if I believe that, what does that say about me?
The people seem so willing to go under for body modifications and I’m over here in actual pain daily afraid to get cut open for a surgery that could make my life physically better and why can’t I be more like them, if I’m supposed to be, but what is normalcy?
And just like that, he came and went, said he wouldn’t ghost anyone but when I called him on his supposed military service and personnel record, poof.
Is everyone pretending? Surely, but to what extent? Is this a feature or detriment? Has it always been like this and I just didn’t notice it?
I don’t have any fucking idea why anyone would want to know my thoughts, like what I can get out is in the midst of a full stream of them, coming at my eyeballs in a constant wave, no breaks, and what I’m sharing is what I could grab onto and memorize long enough to get down somewhere, legibly, I’m actually terrified of the people out there for whom they make sense, are you getting this?
I’m trying to give stuff up but it is tough because insert excuse here, here, and here…
I wanna say if they are hawking products don’t trust them but how will I eat then?
What am I saying to myself and why is it always so fucking mean?
If I stop remembering to be me, can I be anything?
Am I to be defined? Am I supposed to keep making the bed?
Am I supposed to create an online presence across various social media applications because now I am the product being sold instead?
How do I know this is so much better than being dead evidently we can’t sample both and then choose- it is how we begin and end too
And like Neil’s cat, I genuinely only ask these questions about me to me
What do I see?
And more importantly, I suspect…what will I do?

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