It's a nuisance--this molecular sense of well-being we have. I want to be somewhere in the future, somewhere happier and more stable. But disorder is pertinent to every action. How does anyone connect the dots if there aren't any pencils? I live the life society has lain out for me. I am a slave. I am the same as my family. I seek nothing but pleasure. Life says I must earn money. I do, and yet there's emptiness. Love can't even fill the hole.