The calm surrounds me, engulfing me in a warm blanket. I force it to remain. I force my body to stop shaking. I deny the feelings of need and want within me. I refuse to acknowledge their exsistence. And the people scream and a new song begins. I am calm. Everything becomes so significant that nothing really matters anymore. And the words flow from the tip of the pen. I listen to the clicking of the scratchings of nothing and everything. I wish the world to stop turning and I close my eyes so for one brief moment it does, but then I open them again and everything comes flooding back. Tell me the words to speak little green pen. "I'm sorry" I don't know if that's what I should say or what the pen says to me and does it even really matter? "I love you." That's never done me any good. Perhaps this time will be different: this time it's not for my good, or is it? And does anyone really even know the world?