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Call me cartoon.

(it’s cool…)

’cause I’m not the only one.

People walk around acting serious,

faces like stone…

but deep down?

Every single one of us is a cartoon.

Some stretch far enough to live in history,

some fade fast 

just a story,

some stay hidden 

like a mystery.

And us?

We talk like cartoons,

we act like cartoons,

we are cartoons.

No transitions.

No script.

No warning.

Life just jumps 

cut to scene,

cut to scene,

moment after moment

with no pause button.

Ideas drifting…

here,

there,

everywhere 

like loose papers in the wind.

Before all this?

We weren’t anyone.

Just outlines.

Just sketches.

But now…

now we’ve coloured in.

Now we’re cartoons.

And sometimes I wish the world

worked like that too 

that war was cartoon,

that murder was cartoon,

that pain came with a reset button

and a soft sound effect

instead of silence.

’Cause when reality gets heavy,

when it presses on the ribs,

we do what we do best 

we escape.

We slip into the versions of us

that feel lighter,

stranger,

truer.

Yeah…

call me cartoon.

Call all of us cartoon.

’Cause whether we admit it or not,

we’re all living these lives

in bright colours and broken lines 

real stories,

real hearts,

real moments

real cartoons.