broken clocks

foreward

There is a time when you're little, maybe about 4 or 5, that everything makes sense and nothing makes sense at the same time. Like you don't know how the world works but make up your own reasons for why things happen, like magic or fate. The time when people think little kids are being so cute. Really, they're just scared and tricking themselves into thinking they know how the world works, when they know they don't. Adults think the toddlers are just stupid, but they know damn well what they're doing. Everybody's scared of something. Some people are just better at hiding it. You get better at hiding it with age. That is why adults seem so much more brave than children. Because the experience? It matters.

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But there are certain times when everything is wrong, and no one knows anything, that adults let their true colors show. Like when something is discovered that should have stayed hidden. Of when someone gets deathly ill. Or when someone betrays them. When someone is scared, all the tough, callused layers they have formed over the years to protect against fear are stripped away, showing you who they really are. And inside, every person is basically the same. But with small variations. A code. One I intend to figure out. No matter what the cost is.