"You musn't be afraid. Look, we've got fire." "Just fire won't do it." And oh Rachel, she's right.

"It was just a game, wasn't it? A game?"
"Sir."

--Lord of The Flies, Act two. An excerpt.


For the hours and hours and oh Lord, hours, that I am occupied; Jumping off planks, running up ramps, crawling on carpeted floors. I am desperately trying to find safety, to do what I think is right, to make sense of a world that has become chaos since the airplane I was on crashed.
I don't know what I'm doing, but I know what I need to be kept safe from.

And then she claps. It is over and I reach for the pack of smokes.
I am here. I am back in your world. No, the world you live in but not your world.

And inside, I'm doing the same thing; Screaming, crying, joining in, pulling out. I know what I'm doing but then,
I don't know what I need to be kept safe from.







Oh, oh.
I don't mean very much there, I don't. I'm small, I'm the youngest. I join in because Rachel does and I'm not entirely sure if what I'm doing is right.
I'm insignificant. Trying, desperately to be bigger than I really am and...
Oh, oh.
I wish I meant just a bit of something to you.