I’ve never understood the need to be mercilessly logical.

The need to sit still and listen, to fit into the picture every situation, like a contract you signed off on when you were born.

The first moment, you felt that you were playing by a playbook, and you were loved but then disliked in a flip of a switch.

Molded like a factory product, can’t you see?

Logic is a disease, but the little dreamer was always free.