A Thought About A Wall

I want to effortlessly be a part of something, that when I feel like it’s not effortless anymore I melt into the walls and it becomes surprisingly comforting. I am a silent observer.

Maybe this makes me belong like I have no choice to because I am inhuman now because I am the walls the floor, the desk the chair, and I am accepted, but at what cost?

Freedom.

Because maybe if I were the chair or the floor or the walls I’d have more fun watching others live their lives instead of having the pressure to live my own and the pressure to be part of other people’s lives.

I don’t wish to die. I just find it comforting the inability to participate, that way I won’t have hopes and crave acceptance because I’ll simply be the infrastructure in which others choose to live their lives and choose to be part of others.