A note of clarification.

you're ≠ your.

thank you for your time.

everyone seems so much happier now

we finally built a weather machine

but then it was taken over by fifth-grade boys

nobody can get to work or school any more

i don't think anyone's tried to stop them yet

my favorite things volume I

V.I

enough incoherent non sequiturs.

Some days I feel as if I'm walking through a blur, a haze, or a dream.

Others days, everything feels so real that I don't quite understand what's going on.

      It's as if the movements of my life are flashing rapidly past me, like a broken slide projector.

      I feel like I'm about to reach a rousing climax; will it be a cry for help, a dissonant plea flying through the darkness? Or will it be like the final chord of Hindemith's horn concerto, a final ray of hope, completely contradicting its precedent?

I think I've lost my score. Did I even have one to begin with? My only instruction now comes from the Conductor, and I eagerly await His command.