Something about morning and that heinous alarm reaching through the cobwebs of sleep with the shrieking calamity of daybreak translated into pure noise seems to get me off on the wrong foot. I slide past their gaze. They eat up every detail. Train those eyes on someone else and leave me to my five car pile-up of a morning. I'm carrying everything myself all the way and sometimes I'm just sick of trying to care and cope and maintain something that wants to fall apart. I stare at the screen at work trying to look busy when I just don't care. Someday I'll be found out, but for now I'm wearing my disguise. I don't think I'll ever understand other people and their ability to be comfortable and seemingly happy. I swear there has to be a reason why it's wrong to appear so balanced and well-adjusted.
I didn't manage to finish my daily comic page last night due to the fact that I'm somehow overwhelmingly attractive to the caterpillars in the park I was at last night.
