My birthday is just another day of the year. Christmas is a hoax.
My walk is irrelevant and I'm sure the Earth doesn't feel it.
My eyes are not a window to my soul;
in fact I don't even think I have a soul.
I'm not generic all the time and neither are you.
Sure, you can do something outrageous to claim some originality,
but it all boils down the same.
There will always be people that know you, know of you.
And there will always be people that don't care to learn about the space you occupy.
I'm just another being, I move and I breathe.
I try and keep my heart in my chest and my beliefs on my sleeve.
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