How does it feel to be a slave in a world so full of beauty? Do you feel grateful to your silent and invisible master for allowing you feel the touches, smell the scents, see the sights, taste the flavors, sense the unknowns? Is it really better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all? Would you not be happier in a box where at least you know what everything means? Have you not noticed that no one wants to talk about it for too long? Have you counted how many times the subject has been dropped? When you speak of it, have you not seen the look in their eye that tells you they think you are mad for talking that way in this situation? Do you really think you are the crazy one?