Tears roll down and sear my face. You would think I'd finally get used to this place- this world of perfect imperfection. How many lessons is one to learn? How many times must one burn under a sun indifferent to our existence? I want to scream in people's faces, "SNAP OUT OF IT!" But they wouldn't listen. What use is this toungue if I cannot speak? What use are these lungs if I cannot breathe easy? I have an anxious disposition and the universe laughing in derision at me doesn't help any.