scribbled on the way home from school

We are the ones who notice all the trivial yet stunning intricacies in life. The beautiful introverts, the subtle shades of existence that exist everywhere. Each interaction a profound self-discovery, a gorgeous exultant tone, or a desperate cry of anguished alienation of existence. We exist outside the spectrum. We suffer outside the spectrum. And we die outside the spectrum. Each battered breath a battle; and each battle a brawl for mental survival. And as we battle, we dig our graves deeper and deeper until we fall. Inevitably buried by our own futile existences.