Paraphrasing a rather repugnant mental dump
I feel like if everyone in my life left me, I'd be quite content being alone. No social networking, just myself, my thoughts, and perhaps some good old interactive media. The thought of someone relying on me is terrifying. I'd miss people, (hell, I miss people I've grown out of touch with now) but wouldn't be devastated.
It's quite surreal. Everything is surreal. The patterns of people walking in the city. Each with their own lives and attachments. Ambitions, small and large. I admire this ~society~ in all its intricacy, yet see no meaning in becoming another cog, or even destroying/reshaping it to my ideals. It's strange how people define "mature". I see injustices, people crying over spilt milk, and so many beautiful things taken for granted.
Grass is awesome. There is so much to adore in just the texture of one stroke of the paintbrush. So much richer than the outer-personalities many people force upon themselves. It's quite pathetic that acting like you're too good for others in the hopes that they'll believe it has such a high success rate, for example, and despite this analysis I ironically find myself having fallen for the façade time and time again.
Part of me (both genetically and environmentally coded in) wishes I could find someone to make me think otherwise, but we're all the same deep down, and relying on one individual more than another is as artificial (and unnecessary) as our concept of individuality itself. Embrace the "singularity" and all that.
Yet I really want to indulge!
Does this come off as arrogant? How am I still alive? Why must Firefox insist on melting that c?
Eat a dick. I think you're beautiful.