"It's not a race." I forget That all the time. I hate the way I stay up late. I'm so shortsighted. I feel so hopeless But I'm not. Maybe I should drift off. You'll conquer them, One by one, But in the meantime I can't keep up. Florida skies, Red and pink. Humid air. It's kinda nice. Just this once I liked it there. At the top Of the hills We call mountains. I came to think Maybe there's Some beauty in the world, despite everything. I just want to hear your voice. I wish I was funnier, I'm trying to regain my self respect. I said this earlier, I need all the help that I can get. Outside the worriers, I haven't found a place where I fit in. Seems they've discouraged your Attempts at isolation.