Passerby

            It is interesting to know that I pass by you in the hallway and I observe you and take your essence in with my eyes. I am curious to understand your thought processes to the point in which I see all of your neurons firing. Maybe we could develop a friendship over late night talks and little offerings for each other’s minds. So I go up to you and I say hello and that I see you walking around and we smile at each other sometimes, but never converse. You give me a blank look, as if you knew nothing of what I mentioned. Surely you don’t even go to my school is what you seem to be thinking. You play it off and act as if you know what I’m talking about, but it’s obvious that you don’t, so I retreat by nicely mentioning that I guess I paid more attention to you than you did to me and try to thin the static blocking the communication by adding a chuckle. You look at me again, scrutinize my features and think about my strangeness and with a blink of an eye you look uncomfortable. I say, have a nice day! Then, I keep going on my way. 

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