blabber

When I reach the church floor, I argue with myself about the mere showing of my face among the crowd. I contemplate my existence, only as I can, and I fail to listen to the words being spoken. Even if I do open my ears to the things of preachers, am I only following another man's beliefs? Does this not disprove my philosophy? For each individual, life is something fresh and new unable to be tampered with by others. I comfort myself speaking these words continuously...