The Chronicles Of A Bohemian Teenager (Part I).

Lying in a grassy lawn, surrounded by the chattering masses. Yet, encased in a bubble of my own, impervious to the many distractions of mankind. For I am reading. Reading, but not comprehending. Sleep has begun to take me. Words swirl on misty pages, an epitaph for my consciousness. Oh, flow, Morpheus, slow. Words of twilight swim, goblins, and carnivals. Or is it a dream? Am I already asleep? I do not know.