What disturbs you, annoys you, makes you worried, happy, exuberant, mellow, yellow, makes you want to dance, die, cry, lie put, run, walk, stay in bed, pick up the phone, or fills you, thrills you, almost kills you, becomes the life in you, the dead in you, the sleepy you, the broken you, the shaken, the brittle, the angry, the loving, the crazy, the pointless, the bored, the sleazy, the lovely, the beautiful you, the ugly inside, the ugly outside, the unperturbed, the wishes fulfilled and the ones that were not, the dreams never remembered, the fears never acknowledged, the irrationality you tried to explain all your life, the empty, the smoky, the whatever that made you look up, turn away, put your head back down in cracking silence and explosive composure, made you want it, wish it, made you not care anymore, and struck you again as something that used to matter, or that it still does and how you wish it wouldn't, and that which never was said, which you never understood just forgot, or not, whatever which made you choose what you did, whatever you loathe in hindsight, or are proud of but no one else can know, and also that which is known, and that which should have happened, and that which shouldn't, and the gaps that formed and moments, long and small, unending and fleeting, and them that were just the right size. All of them. All of that. All of that which was. All of it and everything else. Finally. From a far enough vantage point, From an open enough mind. Finally, it was all fun. And will always be. How can it not, how can it be anything else at all. Fun it has to be and will. Just fun. Just fun..