Buxomillan

Please excuse my non-sensical jabberwocky, but sometimes it seems that I find more sense in the non-sense. Do I make sense?

Someone sits next to me. We both sit there shooting blank stares, looking straight ahead like trained soldiers, only we’re not soldiers (at least I’m not). I know that if I want to spark a conversation, I have to be the aggressor. How do I know this? Because you know this. Yeah, you, sitting next to me. The infinite loop.
So, my whole life I went through life never starting a conversation. They say, “It’s easy to meet people.” I say it’s hard to meet people. They also say, “We are imitators of life.”

I watch the passengers at the airport walk by. Supernatural beings from all walks of life, they were gathered here together on this specific date to mirror eyes.
The ed duet.

Skootero.

I get on the company bus that will take me to my car. There are other fellow employees, including pilots, flight attendants and ticket agents. We look at our cell phones.
Cell.
Phone.
And we’re very happy deep inside.
No.
Movement.
Silence.
No.
Emotion.

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