The whispers of the children carry throughout the room and they scurry around like frightened mice, reaching for the last piece of cheese. I see hunger in their eyes and perhaps it's not for food, but for nurture. And when I look at their faces, I see nothing but want and when I look into the mirror, I see the same thing.

It's scary, really, that I'm seeing the same in a man such like myself. Twenty-two years old and nothing but want and need is left inside me. I swear, I am not so selfish, just deserving.

And when they say, 'Dear Lance, you have everything you need, why do you feel your horizons can expand any larger than they already are?' and my reaction to that is nothing short of a grunt and a sour look. My immaturity only fuels to most of this and though I may not run around like a crazed child, my mindset is naïve and beautiful.

When things don't go my way, all I have to do is close my eyes and pretend I've somehow come to a place better than this. A place where the grass is tall and all you can see for miles is just….gold. Golden sunshine, golden grass, and all else of the golden glory. It's lovely, but it's not real. And people will tell me ever so often that I live a life with all substance and no reality. And I don't believe them most of the time. But when I think about my escape route, my fields of gold, I begin to realize that I don't remember what line dreams and reality hold.

My sanity, it holds by a thin thread of gold, and what can I do? Cut it short? Or let it string it along like a hungered child?

So I do the best thing I can do. I cut loose. There's no use in pretending that my sanity was ever something of abundance. And perhaps my lifestyle has somehow contributed to it all, but in the end, I know it doesn't matter. I myself, am happy the way I am.

I need nothing but my fields of gold and boundary-less line of dream and reality.