All my life I have been circling this big old house. Every once in a while I will find a window and get to see inside. My family and friends are in there, as well as strangers, people I have known and forgot about, people I remember passing on the street, everyone. I guess I seen just about everyone in there at one time. I look in the windows and they are all doing something I want to do. They're talking, laughing, and maybe the most important they are listening. To each other at least. I keep moving from window to window, thinking, "Man! I would love to get inside there!" but all the windows are locked. Sometimes the glass is open to a screen, and they can hear me, but never really acknowledge me. And so I move on to the next window. I have no idea what makes me think I will ever get inside, but I keep circling that house and looking inside, wishing I could get in, until there are days that I am so tired I collapse.

I'll look in one window and see my family celebrating something, and I'll try to get in until my hands are bloodied, and I'll think that's the worst pain and move on. I'll find another window and see my friends doing something I enjoy and feel the same way. I'm not really sure which window hurts me the worst, or which is locked the tightest. Maybe because I've looked for so long. But I am not stupid enough to believe I can do this forever.