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I'm going to be a geochemist, and enjoy life.

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I am just a speck of dust inside a giant's eye.

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The few, the proud...

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I learn to get by on little victories.

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Lava flows over crooks and craggy cliffs to the ocean and explodes in a steam heat fevered cyclical motion.

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There will be table and chairs, there'll be pony rides and dancing bears, there'll even be a band.

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I'm spitting out excuses that would make your stomach turn.

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Face.

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You can breathe, but the air is running out.

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If I could do just one near perfect thing I'd be happy.

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