A Free Nobody

A free spirit deplores the prison of focus and the fascism of intelligent thought because it cramps a style given to roam over sillier hills on the way to nowhere in particular. A job is out of the question for it brings to heel an attention that naturally freewheels from river to dry old woodlands- rich for the biz of con-temp-lating a little of the curiosities of life. For the lack of focus, such a soul is sometimes a bland little nothing burger of a person who then scrambles around for a character footing, and fails. Dribbling insipid sentiments have to work through the old system, then behold: a great somebody of force and purpose is born!

Ah but a somebody is yet restrained by the chains of their own personality. To hell with it.