I feel as though I am an unplugged socket. A mock-human. An observer in a skin suit, expected to play the maracas like the rest, but with no such rattle, just a mask and an awkward dance. I mimic the pattern of the vultures to avoid being pecked, so that their eyes may not see me as I dance underneath their predatory field of view, meticulously choreographing each move so as to not disturb their gaze. When not playing jester, I hide beneath the reeds and watch the world toss and turn, I do not roam, rowl and play beast, I am the earth, an upshoot from the ground, a non-man, I am a totem, an eye with no face.
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RAADS-R: 206
AQ: 46