A Feynman Principle

“What do you care what other people think?” Is a posed question with attempted answer in ink, And Feynman did fine, but there are thoughts of mine, That when I’m drunk on wine, they both do and do not align. I am aware I am who I am, I have a whole poem. Do you think the dark parts of myself I don’t roam? Do you think I don’t replay, constantly, day after day, The dumb I think and say? You think I don’t remember the words cutting? You think I don’t remember the look gutting? You think I don’t remember being the absolute douche I have been? You think I don’t see for me an easy hell level ten? You think I don’t hear my stupid ing jokes? Do you think I can pretend what it cloaks? Just someone trying to find a smile to hide behind, Just another person afraid of a mind. Just another mystery to solve and answer to find. Just another thing to have me into insanity unwind, entirely designed. Why would I care what you think When I already know my own stink. Why would I care what you think When I’ve pushed myself to the brink. Why would I care what you think At the bottom of this drink Why would I care, why would I shrink? I mean…why would I wanna die because of what *we* think….