The Transparent Pretension

Ever feel like a swirling pinwheel that catches every wind, breath, and downhill draft? You spin but you are stationary- lodged in between the cool and comfortable blades of a freshly cut lawn.

Ever feel like an ADD gorilla storming across the den with thick knuckles dragging debris and damage through out your palace by your perfectly executed banana dance? You grunt and snort and win the best in show at ZooFest, yet no one buys your tantrum any longer, they merely patronize the tirade.

Ever feel like a dedicated drum major with a three hundred pound whistle attached to your blowing lips while leading a parade? You turn to gaze back at the marching revelers and fancy footers only to find a fully filled street adorned in apathetic turbans going beep, beep, beep.

Ever feel like George Jetson’s carpool driver sandwiched between the son of Gregarious II and his heir to the throne Loquacious I? You want to concentrate on not missing the tricky left lane merge but your head is domed in mumbles, half-sentences, and fog.