Invisible Fog

I looked up at the sky one morning and found that I couldn’t see it. The fog was in the way. I sighed, lonely. I wonder if fog ever gets lonely. No, fog is really just visible air. It’s just air that sometimes gets to be seen, but usually not. Maybe it’s the air that’s lonely. Or maybe it’s actually depressed, being invisible and all. I am invisible. I can prove it. Watch. Here comes a person. “Hello! See me! Do you see me? I’m waving to you! Hello?” Nothing. I am invisible. The air is invisible. Unless it’s foggy. But no one wants fog. It gets in the way and annoys people. I’m better off not being visible. Fog is better off being plain old air. Plain old invisible air. I’m better off being plain old invisible me. It’s easier. The world doesn’t like change. It doesn’t like difference. Different doesn’t fit. There’s no room. Everyone is better off staying the same. Yeah, the same. No room for visibility. I am _____ and I am invisible, just as I should be.