It wasn't my idea.

They decided to let me sit

Sit in this leather chair

alone.

I guess they simply don't understand.

They say tell the truth,

I do.

But its no use.

Not once am I believed.

Some sort of integration,

fitting for the area.

"Ideas, not mine!"

I'd say.

But if there's an idea you say,

evidence,

its yours.

Your shoulders

with weight

and some salt

depending on you

of course.

It has a starting point

it has an end.

Everything does.

Everyone does.

every

every

every.

Thoughts.

Nothing more,

nothing less.

Thats what this journal is.

I owe it to Ms. Cutterherhead

Huh.

Nice name.

She opened a window,

It looked through it.

Then there was change.

This change.

This here is change,

change.