One fine morning you wake up with the strongest urge to not conform. You feel like going yaw yaw yawwwwwwwww, screaming, hair in disarray, scantily clothed, running as fast as you can through a busy thoroughfare, making faces at everyone who stares at you, gaping in their starched prim office clothes. You feel like sticking your head on the windowpane, as they fumble for (any kind of) reaction. You lapse back to a childbrain, words hardly forming, happy gurgles at the corner of your mouth.
For the last time that fine morning, you go back to sleep, rolling over in shared glory, and only a wide yawn, surreptitiously escapes.
.......
For the last time that fine morning, you go back to sleep, rolling over in shared glory, and only a wide yawn, surreptitiously escapes.
.......
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