i hope you can't hear my thoughts but i suppose you can read them through my face which seems to be in a permanent scowl. i drain my cup of tea and the marks at the bottom seem to scream that things have to change and things have to change fast i have to leave everything here and let them throw it all away even the things i think i care about. no matter how many times i wash my hands with the bleach they never feel clean even when the skin peels away and a new one grows back i am disappointed to find it is exactly the same as before.