Mind-reading.

I study Psychology.
I can't read minds
as much as I wish I could

There isn't much sense in worrying about what the old man in the park thinks about me considering I don't actually know him. But it feels like he has a critical eye on me and I'm scared.

I join the crowd of grocery shoppers in Tesco and it doesn't feel like I am as submerged as the others. I walk quietly through the aisles, not saying  word. I am listening to Keane's 'Bedshaped' on my iPod and hoping the people around me aren't paying any attention to the girl in a checkered shirt and shorts. I am too self-conscious. What are they thinking of me? Why is she looking at the tin of beans I am holding? Why is he looking at my legs?

I walk off to pay for my items and a small child runs into me. There is a look of shock in his eyes and suddenly he cries. I feel guilty for being the one he ran into and I feel terrified his mother might think I've done something to him.

I drop my basket of items and leave the store empty-handed.

I am in the park. It's dark and everything seems to be going to sleep. Still listening to 'Bedshaped', I thought about the old man in the park, the random shoppers in Tesco and the small boy I inevitably scarred with my presence. I rip out some grass and examine it with what little light I have and notice how not one blade looked different from the other - I want to be like grass - to fit in and not stand out. I want to be deindividuated and be engulfed by the crowd so that my being is the crowd.

I hear someone clearing his throat behind me. It's the old man. I get up and walk off as quickly as I can.

I lose sight of the old man behind the trees and I feel safe.