Enter in the cheapness of my past and the complete disaster I have made of so many things. Yet even years later I have the talent to recall them all with crystal clarity. Reminding myself the world is so small. How one human can remember and be scared by something they did years ago. Looking in the mirror and staring at a stranger. Trying to pull something worth while from the image before it slides off the glass. Slips into a black glob onto the floor. Often a shadow covers me. I am an allusion to myself and everyone else. The definition of self makes little sense much like this little ditty. So I speak on, rambling through the words like another day in my life.