Fusters.

On the festering boil of anger that is my unfulfilled and probably spoiled career as a teacher which I am exceptionally talented but not employed.

I'm angry.

On the problematic intelligence which leaves me unique and incapable of love.

I'm sad.

On the survival of impact and disassociation that comes with having steel roll for thousands of miles and hundreds of miles with an inanimate object.

I'm conflicted.