I can't hear and I really don't care

Saturday Morning:

If you're like me, you're screwing around online with some Bollywood highlight show playing on the living room TV.

The television stood muted while the stereo played a little man in gray loudly; largely overtaking my thoughts. Drinking coffee to shake off my new addictions to rolling in at four am (thanks to cal-trans road work this time), not knowing how to approach people, strung out to fake I don't want to touch you hugs after the one who laughed at me once gave a better one.

So I was already a little off when I was told how weird it was for me to call.
Maybe I'm a sentimental fool
Maybe I still enjoy the moments together
because they're fun
because you're fun

Maybe weird should be spelled
i-t-h-i-n-k-y-o-u-r-e-w-r-o-n-g
or
i-m-s-o-r-r-y-y-o-u-f-e-e-l-t-h-a-t-w-a-y

There is nothing weird or wrong in being friends
as far as I'm concerned.

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