It would make this poem more efficient and user friendly.
The act of eating reminds me I am alive.
Flossing daily helps, too.
Eating Pringles satisfies me more than real potatoes.
I make attachments with people who are "real"
but find real people elusive.
I rely on the internet to connect with people.
Does that make me a bad person?
Please don't answer that.
I feel that I am too sensitive a creature,
my feelers do their job excessively well.
In one hemisphere, my brain hurts.
February 2, 2011