Untitled for the human being. Subheadline: BEEP BOP BOOP

The way some of us can curl our tongues. And I can't.

We're human because we're rabid.

We forget where we left our keys. And we yell, "Honey, have you seen my keys?" And sometimes honey doesn't answer. Partly because he is human and partly because the game is on.

You wanna know why I'm human, do you?

Name me Opposition. I'm everywhere. I'm in all things. All places. All people. And you wish I was gone. You pray to the God you once knew to take me away. And sometimes you get the nerve scream at me. "Leave me alone," you say. "I was happier without you," you say.

You want the truth? You want to know what makes me human? It's the fact that as much as you want me to leave-I can't. I can't stop touching you and I can't stop wishing you would stop telling me to go away. I'm tied to you. I'm tied to you like the boys who tie my shoe laces together, laughing as I trip through this rabbit hole everyone has told me is called "life."

I can't leave you. It's for your own good. Without me you wouldn't appreciate the girls with straight hair or the people who think math is pointless. Without me.

I'm human in the way my friends don't recognize me because I "wear too much black." We're human in the way we avoid eye contact and I pretend not to know your first name-because apparently that's "creepy." We're human because I know you, and I don't know the first thing about you.

We're human because we're pretending. And robots don't need to pretend. Robots just are.

"I was drunk and angry and stupid–"

"And blogging."

"And blogging."

Esther.