A notebook bulletin board
tacked on when randomly bored
applied thoughts in a scribblebook
open for the world to look who passes by
so fast to see like a needle in a haystack we
safely stash those innermost secrets thought to be
at least you see languishing up and into pristine
blossoms for you to pick and sniff and hope
they don't make you sick.



What is behavior if not a symptom of what is happening?

Since it seems to be modified for different audiences,
what modifications, if any, take place for one's self?

If one must ask what's happening, may one ever know?
Go ahead and ask yourself, why behave like that?

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