Childhood is overwrought.
Out of control.
For example, I once wanted & went global as stars are, like razor blades,
and as sketchy. That was my creed, with hopes for a better appraisal, it was based on the
friendly fire coming my way in the form of the happy.
The seats were cold & bright & superstar & that made us feel special.
That’s smart. Who cares who got off on selling out?
We still do.
Wee all still do!
Ears piqued like stars all night our nation anthems.