He walked in like a sudden storm meant to make me astounded, like a fire I was drawn to him, he was wearing his college uniform, his hair uncombed as it seemed, fit perfectly with his lonely set of eyes and I only paid attention to him, I thought to myself; Who in their right mind would go out in public without even fixing his hair? Him apparently, I was amused. He was weird and prosaic, but to me he was perfect.

The bullets being fired are my own thoughts, sinking themselves into my flesh. The swords being plunged into me are my own blades which I chose to draw across skin. The punches being thrown are punched my liver is taking from the bottles of alcohol. The good people of this world.