A jumble of mumble

There lay within me a need to be heard. Merely listening to myself would suffice. These elaborate linguistic and conceptual symbols I use to reveal me to myself: it is all a jumble. A jumble of mumble. If only I could stop thinking.

God, I sure do waste my thoughts.

I want to slap myself in the face. What kind of person am I to be so materialistic as to allow my thoughts be dominated by such lameness and mediocrity? Albeit society's pull to fit in is strong.

But this shallowness, I don't want it anymore; it is a waste of my life.

I am now a zealot for creativity and individuality, on a pilgrimage to explore the uncharted.