I lean back and tilt my head so all I see are the clouds in the sky. I'm looking back inside my head with my eyes wide open. Furthermore, I still don't know where I'm going; I decided I'm not crazy or alien. It's just that I'm more like one of those kids they find in remote jungles or forests []. A wolf child. And they've dragged me into this fucking schizo-culture, snarling and spitting and walking around on curled knuckles.

The Waterfront Journals