hello runner

Hello runner,

don't come near me. Those shoes of yours annoy me,

running towards me slathering and slithering all over the pavement.

Run on the damn road. Now I've got to walk through the sweat 

you've left behind in the air.

I'm already late. I'm already going to get a bollocking,

so don't come near me. You're boring.

Runners are boring. People that look for hobbies are boring.

They think their hobbies make them interesting.

It's all superficial crap.

Go take your bullshit classes and three month course.

Nothing. That's what it'll amount to. Looking for something

to chat about, a few minutes to kill at a party.

Other than that, your little class -yoga, sushi class, how to write, 

ballet- is going to do jackshit.

Perhaps a story that'll make you seem interesting.

But that's all there is to it.

The runners, they're all the same. Yes you've got to do 5k this weekend.

But so what.

Now I'd rather sit next to that old granny and chat to her all day and night.

And give her a kiss on the cheek pretending she's my granny.

But none of this rambling and jostling with myself before I arrive and dock in.

Because one more slap on the wrist and I'm out of that job.

When I'm fired, you know those few moments leading up to the firing?

It's nerve-wracking. Your heart pops out your eyeballs,

but then when you've left the building, you're a free man.

Because you've got no real duty. You don't HAVE to live. No one's imposed 

that on you. And that's the best part of it all.