Dictator of Personal Peace

One hundred eyes watch as you cannot seem to come to grasp
With those arbitrary obligations from those who do not show you more than a mere passing glance.

You crave, however, to please each pair of those observant one hundred eyes and
find yourself drunk off the illusion of reciprocally being ached for all the same.

Conjectures are formed based off of the capricious expectations from those same watching one hundred eyes.
We presume that those who pretend to be the happiest, are in fact, naturally untroubled.

The saddest soul of all knows, however, that one can never truly become immune to the disease known as Conformity.
And still, one hundred judging eyes will spread their illness until the rest of us find ourselves relentlessly unwell for eternity.

I find myself feverish at the very thought.


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