birds chirp in monotone and music is annoying sounds when I've things going on brain arrest. staring at the nothing beyond my closed eyes makes pictures dance like dust in sunlight, but forgive my impudence when I say that I cause sadness in many hearts... yours seems to fare better but I'm scared of everything falling into angst and apprehensiveness. I don't have the ***** to be a man. I don't have the patience to be a woman. youth presses into my skin like fresh pine needles piercing dead leaves, but I reject such lovely things when I'm braining and trying to be an adult. I'd hate to lose touch at young age, but echoes say growupgrowupgrowup