the hunger is sickening now and regret rears its ugly head as the next night falls. the wind smells of gasoline and fried food, and the faces of people are shaded in their distance. or maybe it's my distance... she says i dont feel anymore, that i'm numb, inconsiderate, intoxicated, and never serious... well, my skin is thick and my heart is light. my hair does what it wants and so do i. i'm not intoxicated anymore. i can feel my lungs and life expand and shrink. i wasn't joking when i said i was happy there, and i wasn't joking when i said i was grateful. it isn't funny. but it's okay.