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sometimes i wonder whether it is worth it. whether it's worth anything at all. for there to be worth, there has to be someone, something, to value it. but if nothing is able to value it, then it's worth is unknown, it's value is guessed at, and second-guessed and soon no one cares anymore. sometimes i think that people have stopped caring about me. maybe i once was valued, worthy of space and time. but not anymore. and so now i drift. away on clouds of grey and skies of black with stars of crystal spotted every second millimetre. this is no home for me. it deserves much more than a worthless child. you may say priceless, but you would be wrong.
signed, Jade d'Arte