How odd that with fluorescent lights behind us, we become a whole lot braver. Lets yell from that roof. Lets climb from balcony to balcony. Lets draw a picture of how our raw, acid-like emotions eat us from within on the empty parking lot floors with chalk. Lets write little unsigned poems, that only strangers will read, onto polls and pillars. Let's allow ourselves to get dizzy on realizations and drunk on an ...hourglass ....running... dry.