to not need anyone to catch you when you fall down. down. down.

just so that everyone can continue in that comfortable superficiality, where everyone is convinced that ALL IS WELL.

and in this comfortable superficiality, we become chameleons that can morph into whatever our environment requires of us. we take the colour and appearance of whatever we're surrounded by. we bitch about the things people bitch about. we gush about the things people gush about.

and with that ability, we find our own cliques. we choose our fellow chameleons. and we painstakingly exclude those unlike our kind. and we gain a false sense of satisfaction that someone undeserving has been left out of OUR clique. THE exclusive clique.

but then ALL IS WELL until we start relying on our clique in a too-deep-for-comfort level. because humans work better in levels closer to the surface. go too deep and we risk drowning. so clique or no clique, we're ultimately alone. the fellow chameleons come and go like the wind. it just depends on who are at the right time, at the right place and with the right common desired areas of destination.

so it's alright if you forget me/don't care/come and leave as you please/ignore/whatever else people do to display disregard. because we are all but passing strangers on the train. some of which we find comfort in a certain level of superficial exchange. some of which we choose to avoid eye contact with. but at the end of the day, we are all getting off at different stations, albeit some common suburb or area.

so baby I don't need you.

I just need my own parachute.

or I can just keep free-falling.