Just a fad

Entering into the four walls confining a group of followers dutifully staring up at screens filled with words meant to provoke an emotion. I am not the good worshiper, with her hands outstretched, singing to barriers and computers. I am crouched, sitting in my chair. Staring down at my feet, furrowed brow. Wondering why all these people are here and why they continue to show up every week at the same time at the same place, doing the same thing they've been doing for years and years. The place may change, the name changes, the faces change, but the schedule is always there, the walls are still there. I can't do it. Pick my things up and walk out, while the others sit and wait to be told how to feel and what to think for the rest of their week. Not for this girl.