Even after it all, I still believe I can make everyone happy.

My delusion gets me through the days. We all have the ability to define our reality, don't we? I choose to make mine absurd, I disconnect it from your reality and yours and yours, because it's a place that makes me happy. The colors are whatever I want to make them, my past is my future and my future is my past and how do you know I've never done that? It's my reality, don't bother trying to change it for me. Iron-strong and pillow-soft, wouldn't a world made entirely of feathers be great? It might tickle a bit though.
Now my mind is off in the middle of nowhere, but then again the middle of nowhere isn't such a bad place. No prying eyes to keep me away from myself. There's a reason they're called "prying", I suppose. Pushing things apart.

Oh, and there's always a spare smile or rainbow or just a bit of sunshine, or moonshine, whatever gets you through the days. A hug or a high five or just a grin or a nod of hey, you exist.

The road outside my house is paved with good intentions.