One miserable headache. Harsh light
like a tunnel strobe. A million
things, going nowhere. This kid's
12 years old, in spikes, but how
do you stop a dream?
Now, time was running out
and I realized soon I'd have
to get off my ass. Doing
something wasn't the battle,
and the battle wasn't enough.
So, then, what do you want to be
when you grow up? I wonder.
Still, look at them, lined up at
the very spacious bar.