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(my friend Richard Rawlins is working on a new project called AHSKWEDPERSPECTIVEZ. quite randomly i wrote this. well... NOT quite randomly but... ah phooey! read the ting)

every thing must fit tightly into a box. conform. become one of the loveable, faceless drones that lock their knees to their chest in fetal just to show that "YES I CAN... FIT INTO THE BOX.' A pressed smile stamped on their faces suggest their acceptance albeit one under duress (due rest not allowed here).

a woman walks into a full maxi. there is one seat left. unwilling to conform, she steps out of the box, unfolds her legs and says 'no'. she walks out. the people (loveable... faceless) grumble.
they squirm uncomfortably in their seats. by her single action she has upset the box-cart of the soon-to-be-travelling herd who wonders, "oh gosh woman jus' take the seat an leh we go nah!".
instead she returns to the stand till a change arrives that she could believe in.

they label her - SHE... DEM SO...
she is ready for shipment. she who was without box is now pushed into one. labelled by those who do not understand nor appreciate the individuality of their species.

see, it is all good to LOVE thy neighbour because love covers all, but UNDERSTANDING thy neighbour is harder and often seen as pointless. especially when there are a multitude of boxes with generic labels we could simply fit them into. One size fits all.

he is eccentric.
she is weird.
they are snobbish....

he is intolerable.
she is incorrigible. (or "encourageable"....)
they are consumed by their own virtue.

sigh. dust hands and smile. much better... much easier than having to come up with an original thought to describe the individuality of others. (like it really needs explaining?)

so then like like-minded cells, labelled box a joins to labelled box b... drone a joins to drone b... and together they form a new box... Civilized Society.

us... knees up to our chest in fake fetal.... with pressed smiles.


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