Me.
Don't you wonder how things turned out for me? Do you wish me well?
Perhaps not.
You know; the house, the dog and the car? That's me, living the middle-class dream. At the bottom of the top of the pyramid.
You.
You gave me Asimov and Gaiman and Massive Attack.
You were perfect. Just not for me.
And I, I didn't know you. I didn't know you at all.
