I’m a socially awkward, reclusive weirdo,
Living in a fortress made of paperbacks and shadows.
Gremlins in the kitchen, gremlins in the hall—
They chew the Wi-Fi cables and they scribble on the walls.
I don’t know the latest trends, can’t keep up anyway,
I’m still quoting books from childhood like it’s modern day.
And honestly I’d never leave this cozy little cave,
But the groceries won’t teleport—
So outside I must behave… reluctantly.
I’m wrangling chaos with a mug of lukewarm tea,
Culturally oblivious and proud to some degree.
My best friends are fictional and live inside my brain,
Where life makes sense and no one tries to talk to me again.
Yeah, it’s tough—but I claim it all the same:
“spending hours just burning stuff and staring at the flames….”
I trip over conversations like uneven paving stones,
Misread every social cue, retreat into my phone.
The gremlins hold committee meetings right behind my door,
They vote to sabotage my life at least twice a day or more.
I cling to stories, chapters, worlds not found in real life—
Because the real world makes me twitchy, sweaty, full of strife.
And every time I step outside I brace for human sight—
But the fridge is empty, so I shuffle into light… begrudgingly.
I’m wrangling chaos with a slightly panicked grin,
Reclusive little hermit with a gremlin next of kin.
My comfort characters speak to me far clearer than the rest—
(And yes, I’d die for them with zero hesitation. Blessed.)
Yeah, the world’s a mess and people are strange,
So I keep “spending hours just burning stuff and staring at the flames….”
Maybe someday I’ll be brave enough
To talk to someone real, not made-up stuff.
But for now I’ve got my chaos crew,
My books, my gremlins, and my point of view—
And honestly that’s… perfectly fine.
I’m wrangling gremlins through another weird-day plot,
Reclusive, awkward, anxious—but it’s still the life I’ve got.
Fiction feels like home to me; reality’s too loud,
But I’ll survive the outside world (occasionally… I’m not proud).
So I’ll sit right here, where no one calls my name,
And keep “spending hours just burning stuff and staring at the flames….”