"you will not realize any of this until the night when you will turn your living room into a spaceship. you will tell your parents and they will simply stare at you, their eyeglasses blue from the reflection of the ten o'clock news. all of your friends will ignore you. you will run around in circles. you will jump up and down. you will rack your brain for an explanation, for the wonderful story of your creating it. you will not find it. in place of that story will be a void. you will look at your friends for understanding. they will be picking at their fingernails. they will be erasing a mistake they made on their homework. wrought with discontent you will slide your book-bag's straps over your shoulders, weak under the weight of your mind. you will get up and trip over a root as you walk away."