everything under the sun, i want . . . but i can't handle the brightness of the rays . . . everything glowing in the moonlight, i desire . . . but i get spooked by shadows lurking in the darkness . . . everything within my reach, i want to touch. . . but i am scared to get close to anything.
i am surrounded by skyscrapers, yet i hug the ground and greet earthworms and pill-bugs with a sigh and a frown.  i am surrounded by people with money lining their bathtubs, yet i employ a hamster to spin a wheel that provides me light so i can make out the faint letters in an old yellow-brownish stained history book.
longingly i stare at nothing, and desire everything.  a plane darts behind a building a reappears alongside the next.  i wave from my window, hoping that its passengers will take sight of me and send back a rescue party.  but just as opportunity passes me, so does this cold, metallic, hollow vessel of a plane, serving only to remind me, that i am but a spec of dust, swept up in a boundless mound of . . . . . . .