because i want people to understand what I think about so often. to think the world is as beautiful as i think it is. and i want to talk to everyone about everything. good god, i want to yell at everyone, “do you see it? do you see everything around you?” i would ask them, panicked. they would just keep staring up at me. “don’t you notice it?? all of it? the world? it’s fucking beautiful. and we trample all over it, raking away its blanket of leaves, scraping away its fallen snow so meticulously arranged, walking from a to b to c to d, fixated on a flaw in our fingernails, spitting gum out of car windows haphazardly. “don’t you see it?” i’d ask. “it’s wonderful and i want you to realize it,” i would flail my arms around and be out of breath. but i could inhale and keep going.