i couldn't tell you anything exactly or for sure. not anymore. not since i went to school. not since my physics teacher made me cry because she refused to answer my question. my questions. i can't shut up, can't stop having the million questions and the million ways. it'll be christmas soon and maybe i won't get anything. maybe i'll get something great. pat will give me something so sweet, like cotton candy, like raw honey, that i want to cry, and that will be good, and the singing at church will be good. things are good. things are bad. that's what i can tell you. totally for sure; things are good, and things are bad.