It's not like it matters. The streets are chaotic in a quiet, demure way. Like they're waiting to jump out, attack you with every bit of energy the trees are producing. It's strange to feel your mind melt and to watch silently eveyone die like a flower in the midday sun. I don't want to wait anymore. It's not going to happen. The magic wave of joy 'aint gonna happen. I wish I could go back somewhere but everywhere I've been is quiet.