we all crowd into a small room sheltered from a false cold and we converse about the little things. i sit next to the girl i have my schoolbboy crush on and feel awkward around, like she feels awkward when i do something to her just for my own amusement. its a good feeling. its a reminder in a soon-to-be ghost town that there are still signs of life. our average IQ drops, our weights increase, our education becomes automated. she doesnt fit a profile of this town, these suburbs. theres a few things id say....though i lack the steel confidence for that unlike the one i have when i strike at a throat verbally.

i guess there are vagrants in all class wars. my war with anyone above mine. my war with anyone not in mine. i am being to hopeful. maybe she isnt a vagrant. but she has been a diamond in a never ending pile of bodies that are becoming similar to sand. id rather see a smiling face from here than a skeleton that had a pevious owner who had a reputation of going through the motions and smiling to save her face. obviously.....that face wasnt saved.

we are all vagrants. rogues. freedom seekers. there isnt just one profile and datafile to create. some of us just know it from the start. others find it from experience. never too late to find out.

we are all vagrants. we just dont know it.