Expectations rise up in the air like cigarette smoke with nowhere to go, disappearing into the wallpaper, yellowed and yesterdayed. Where is God? Lost from my childhood? Buried beneath toys, in the attic of my younger self. Left behind like a spinning top. The Garden of Eden"s full of weeds in the back yard of nowhere, tiptoeing through the shrubbery, jobless and uninterested in the news. Another wave hits the side of our boat, which is rocking from side to side, neither floating, nor sinking. Love, hope, you, all float and bounce amongst the current. She closes her eyes, she can hear the crowd. Normality follows her like gangrene. Another dream runs out of oxygen and drops off. Society"s abnormal expectations claim...another...victim.