Don't Read Too Much Into This

To the guy I locked eyes with on the subway, to the lady who caught me staring at the Captain Crunch cereal box at the grocery store in aisle four, and to my mother's life mission that trips my self-esteem:

Please don't read too much into this.

Seriously, it was just that one time. And it's not my fault that this guy on the Subway liked my shirt, ok? A shirt covered with forest creatures worshipping Keanu Reeves at its center just screamed "buy me". Also, whoever decided to make the ingredients list on Captain Crunch's cereal boxes has got to be next in line for the "best eyesight ever" award. Truly, no one comes close to that one wiz-kid who can read at a 0.5mm font size.

So really, don't read too much into this. There's really no need.

It's not like I carry a caption above my head waiting for life to get interesting. People who do that are just weird. Except that one guy who carries a cardboard slogan in the crowds- you're cool. Keep up the good work, buddy. It's just that I'm trying to make good decisions, and I don't think I need anyone's permission to do that. Does anyone realize how upsetting life can be when reality sets in that you may never be the younger sibling? That the color orange might never be your color? That you will always say "I'm ready for whatever life throws at me", but this whole "life" thing never actually claims your signature as your own?

Whoa, that was weird. Almost too deep for me. Swimming in the deep end of any venting session does not lead one to the yellow brick road. Unless you're that guy who carries a cardboard slogan in the crowds- nothing bad ever happens to him.

So yeah. It's entirely your fault now that you read too much into this. I told you not to- but I guess it's like asking fat kids to stay away from Santa's cookie plate on Christmas Eve. Suddenly, it's like whoa wait- just because we locked eyes today, guy on the Subway, just because you stared at me, lady on aisle four, and just because I'm unprepared for another episode of "My Life is Better Than Yours", mother, all of you would make me responsible for your happiness? I can barely remember if trash day is Tuesday or Wednesday. No wait, it's definitely Friday.

While I sit here, wondering if this white screen would look better in orange than me, I would ask that you ultimately read enough into what you think is enough. Maybe my Keanu Reeves T-shirt inspired you, guy on the subway. Maybe my intense facial expressions inches away from the cereal box prompted you to call that one creepy guy that stalks you online, lady on aisle four. Maybe when I trip over my self-esteem in a graceful manner, I win the day, mother.

So, as I said before, don't read too much into this. Unless you're that one guy who carries a cardboard slogan through the crowds. Then, when the time comes and the T-shirt designers push another product portraying Keanu Reeves surrounded by- wait for it- sprinkled donuts, and the stars align like that one scene in "Little Shop of Horrors", we need to talk.