I was rejected and called a liar. I was told I thought I was better than everyone else. I thought to myself, “NO, but I won’t be like you.” I was different, I thought too much, talked about things no one else did. And loved everyone. Then I met the world and realized everyone is crazy myself included, I am still not like those voices from the past that rattle around in my head, to this day. I still talk too much, think too much and talk about things no one else does. I don’t love everyone anymore. I stand watching them looking out windows and doors. I read what they think, I see how they love, their warped perspectives, and judgmental vices. Their virtues, and beauty gone, swallowed up for empty dreams, and yet aside from not loving everyone, I am still the me I was then, and the me I still am.