We’re all so serious in our endeavors.

A girl in purple walks out of the lunchline and disappears forever. All that is left is an essay on the floor about believing oneself out of existence.

I can still hear you. You all talk while I’m trying to listen to my headphones. None of you notice me except with irritation. Even if I changed my face or attitude, you’d just keep flickering those same glances at me. The more I get bored with myself the more my handwriting changes. Everyone around me really worries about his/her feelings. They only get sensitive about issues based on personal, not moral, involvement. I used to want to be bale to see into their minds. Now I’m pretty much uninterested. I’d simply like to see inside my own.

All that needs to be done is for one to blend an imaginary around him/herself and start to pretend that no one can see him/her. It really doesn’t take very long.

You can try it too.

The girl in purple became less and less noticeable as the week went on. It’s not that she was less visible, it’s just that she dropped out of memory quicker.

Now people forget her before they even see her.

I can still hear you. But now you talk about someone else.