There is an abundance of thoughts going down the spiral staircase in a home that does not exist, neither in people nor in bricks.
I follow each of them downstairs to hear them out patiently, all while they yell and scream at me, they tell me to jump, possibly do a flip.
Once I reach and open the door, all I can hear is “more! more!”
“Be more present.”
“Be more polite.”
“Be more of yourself.”
“Take more pride.”
“Learn this” “Learn that”
“Earn more money”
“Get this” “Buy that”
Apparently the pieces I hung up in the gallery of trying were not enough, but it seems to me the selves I buried in the cemetry were too much.
“Tone it down, you look too bright”
“Watch your words, you always fight.”
“You’re too much sometimes”
“What’s the use of all this pride?”
How much are you, convenience gets to decide, there’s no upper limit on the assembly line.
“However, make sure you have a personality of your own, make sure it shows in your home.” There is an abundance of thoughts going down the spiral staircase in a home that does not exist, neither in people nor in bricks.
-nav
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