Morning Whispers

Lies. All lies. Beautiful lies. Those are the morning alarms with harp' sounds and soft melodies. Lies! There is no urgency to the day. There is nothing that must be done. Tomorrow may never come.

Returned

There is the perennial question inquiring into my being. How are you? They ask, and I blindly respond. I respond blindly and unfiltered. I respond untouched by society. I respond. I respond and seek validation. I respond and seek acceptance. How am I? The truth in the response is illusive, ephemeral, and empty. I remain untouched by society, and seeking to touch it. The glass wall is still there. The air that I breathe is still free. 

Don't care

Never did. Occasionally I can pretend as though I do. Mostly, I do not even try. But do tell me, what does money have to do with love? Why is it that the gold diggers keep on circling like vultures?
I don't care about them. I do not care for the gold diggers. I never cared for them. It is about time that my mother take note of that. I do not care for the gold diggers. I am incapable of loving them. Any of them. I don't love them. I do not want to love them. Never did.