set Fire to the Clutter in My Mind.

Unexpected news, and I am suddenly snatched from this reality to find myself clutching my knees, those foreign objects that present an illusion of comfort, alone in my room wondering what controls this chaos. Reality shapes itself into whatever occupies us at the moment, whether it be a continuum of books and strangers and tests, or a realization that everyone you love is too far away.

Funny that my strange obsession with pinning a definition on love has excluded that love which always has been there. Some intense and profound feeling of attachment to strangers who love us. Blood that binds and allows some feeling of understanding between people you barely know, whether that be because we are too young, or we don't have enough time, or perhaps because we take these people and their love for granted. It's always been there, and it's not dizzying, or dreadfully exciting, or something we have to search for. It's just there, it just is.

And when it is suddenly taken away, it hurts.

And this fairy tale perspective that shapes the world I love is crumbling, replaced with logic and numbers and blaring inequities, forcing me to place my heart on a dissection board and designate long, difficult names and definitions to all the mysteries afore shrouded in mist.

And when everything is illuminated in much too harsh of a light,

I feel old.