One step, two step, walking on Roscoe st., my footsteps aren't so cheerful. I turned my head and paused walking, gazed the reflection on show-window.
Is this me? Do I look like this? Am I happy the way I am? Why do I look so concerned? Why do I carry so much burden? Why can't I be like anybody else, shrugging their shoulders, acting cool, speaking out loud 'whatever'?
Whatever.. Whatever.. Whatever.. I pretend, but it doesn't make feel any better. In fact, it makes it worse. It doesn't solve any problem, any concern. I can't just be cool with everything. Maybe I tackle too many things, maybe I take things way too seriously. Will I ever rest my mind?