At some point in my life
I convinced myself that all people are complex
That regardless of actions or words
There were spinning gears of Rube Goldberg devices inside their heads
Perhaps because that is how I saw myself
And I desired to no longer be alone
But as I encountered more simple people
More creatures of routine
More steadfast fanatics 
And stoic practical creatures
I started to wonder if I had been wrong
I could only hope that behind the dogma
Entire universes of thought existed
That these individuals so single natured had motivations beyond
The base needs of humanity
That their souls were not as monochrome as they appeared
But I remain constantly perplexed
At what seems to be the death of critical thinking
It is no longer encouraged
Instead it is made to suffer and die
At the hands of mob mentality
I try and sometimes find beauty
In those whose single mindedness
Drives them
Simplicity is no more inherently wrong than the complex
But the war begins when a single thought dominates
And tries to suffocate anything different from itself
When opinions become right and wrong
And the devil’s advocate is anyone who suggests
A deviation
But that leads me to believe
That this desperate clinging to a single idea
Has to be more than it seems
That there is fear
Or love
Or pain
That causes us to hold so tightly
That causes us to believe whatever we are told
That it awakens a sliver of hope
And we are hungry and begging for more
So much so that we blind ourselves
And in that darkness we find comfort

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