The scratch on my wrist is all the way across the front and even around the back. It's strange that it looks like a constellation somehow. I never heard that word so much since moving to this place. Words lose their meaning and turn into something else. Isn't it that everything turns into something else? Theses days my voice stands out like a sore thumb but I like it somehow. I've always liked being different to the rest. Where is the fun in being the same? The same as the next person, the same as that man who lives 5 streets away, the same as her. Well I guess we are all different in our own ways. I like the quirks and funny things that are not the same as the rest. My fingers are numb from the cold and I want to hold on to this a little longer but my grip is getting looser by the second and then it happens. I drop it all in the water and you are no where to be seen. Where are the things that happened in times gone by? Somehow it changed when you said that word. We all have words that slip out in difficult times. they are the things that make us. I'm sad that it isn't that way anymore. But then I remember that things have to be different for me to change and that old smile creeps across my face again. The sun is rising and everything is turning yellow. I turn my face towards the sun and I can't seem anything anymore. Leave me this way for a moment longer.