My bubble... I can't see outside of it. I think it's just how I talk, and how other people might find the selfishness in my voice, noting how I do not sufice to their remise. If I sit down and suck my coke and rum, perhaps the world will fainter gold.

And how my eyes bug out and my voice wavers and I smile a bit too easily and I like everyone's company but my own. That's how it is known. But the reject voice in the back of my pupil doesn't suspect that I will be designatory for driving home.

I suppose his feeble banter was to my destination. As his words are my future. And I know I will be spoken to as a child by him until I am 35 years old. No one wants to be a child sister for that long. He refuses to let me grow up; and I think I see his bubble. Everyone has one. And I am like him, but he does not have an older sibling whom he has to praise and listen to.

As he said before, when I thanked him for everyone who asked me to, "no, thank you for not giving me a choice, and thank you for giving me an advancement and thank you for doing it yourself; because god willing, if I can do it... you can do it."

But when I coke and rummedly said to him "I know" he shockingly made my heart break. The damage done!

What is it about his bubble... that drives me crazy. It feels like we need to get to each other's throats; and this invisible layer of plastic is in our way. His accusation of my immune bubble, common thought, not-so-real reality, and not being able to know HOW I SHOULD LIVE.

And I just hope he makes it till 2005. And if he doesn't? He'll become an electrition and do work for his fathers.

I refuse to believe that I won't find a person who believes in my reality and finds that I am an individual with my own eyes and ears. They may be following guide dogs such as my parents... but until I am old enough to leave, nothing will stand in my way.

Not even my wise[ass] brother. He is too stubborn himself to know how real my life is compared to his. He's been floating on water for five months. And he doesn't think he can be hurt?

Atleast I don't collect my morals from movies and stars, like he says... they have a sense of reality (pfft).

It will all start as it ended. Nothing to do, no where to go... and millions of tiny little microbeads that record our lives and make us things we never were. Nothing can record the human mind, it's thoughts and what we have to say.

God forbid, we have some fun.