I feel like an alien. In my own skin, in the air I breathe, in the words I have yet to say. I feel like a lone traveler, not knowing where to go, or how to get there. The invisible deep thinker, never to reveal my true thoughts. Your actions are so loud they might have rendered me deaf.

Why does everything seem like a ticking time bomb, waiting to explode? Workers, with their anxious hands and nervous hearts, cautiously approach the bomb, savoring each step. The air is thick with silence and fog as the duck approaches the horizon and the birds and squirrels come out of their burrow. Still, the world is still. The rays of sun lick the faces of the early birds and late bloomers. With a loud sonic boom....the world ended. At 7:18am on November the 7th, the world has stopped the hurting.