Maybe I just think that cutting ties with all your worth is short notice. And what worries me, is everything. Since your paper walls have kept you trapped, you stay buried in your sheets and it seems collapsed. All the folding and every crease, like waves of sand you stand around and grind your teeth. Can you please just fight with everything that seams. With everything in between. Maybe I just think that cutting ties with all your worth is short notice. And what worries me is the slight of sound in your own head. And you know that, because you feel it when your heart stops kicking. Can you believe in what’s hiding with everything in between?