do you ever think that the devil is just a really unfortunate scapegoat?
sometimes i wonder what people do with their days. i try to remember the past couple months before my move and since i've been in seattle. and how some of the days will be memorable but most will just pass by as insignificant moments of my life. are all the insignificant times wasted? or is that what we're all defined by?
what people do on their own, when they're alone, is that who we really are? or is that just a hidden part of us? are we defined by what we do alone or out in the open?
who are we, really?
"excuse me, pardon me, if i may beg your pardon. if you two kids will just stop singing for a moment, i have something i want to discuss with you."
