don't read this.

little sad boy.sad boy. sad boy, smile when you say to me " i'm hungry" i'm hungry. hungry. for so many things. you don't even know the half of it, and i know even less. i'm so sorry. not for escaping, because i think anyone would if they could, but for the fact that the one to tell you, will be the victor. it won't be from a friendly stranger stopped to look into your eyes, it'll be from the doom lowered into your mind by the turist woman who turns her head from you with a look of disgust saying "philistine".