They enjoy the rebellion, the revolution, the adrenaline running through their veins at the speed of light as they embrace the burn of liquor as it travels down their throat.
I was always so engaged, curious to see what my fingertips could create, what litterature my mind thought of. I sat, brooding over the words to come. He addressed me with a grin and told me I needed to hide from the world to explore my imagination. Handing me his sweater, I held it over my head, writing my heart out as my imagination soared.
You're rather agog, enthralled, really. Marauding youths, they are reckless, audacious, imprudent. How it interests you so, how you yearn to live like them, I cannot comprehend what passes through your mind. Do tell, why?
The apparent gentry written upon their faces by an ostrich feather quill. Thus, not smitten, rather inconsiderate, they are. So, turn, avoid piercing eyes.
There is a fine line between the utmost bravery and utter stupidity. I remain treading carefully across that line as though I were performing for a circus.