So, yeah, I’m invisible. It’s not as cool as it sounds. Actually, it kind of fits—no one’s ever really “seen” me anyway. I spend my time writing poetry about how pointless everything is, all while wearing black... which, of course, no one can see. Eye contact? I wouldn’t make it even if I could. I’m basically just a floating cloud of existential dread. Being misunderstood is kind of my thing, but, like, isn’t that the point? If you could see me, you wouldn’t get it anyway.