The words look different under the light of the moon. Perhaps it is the lack of light that prevents the pages from shining haunting images of inadequacy. It matters not that the same scene is now portrayed by glowing screens and vibrating things. What now pulls at strings of obligation that carry me like a puppet through life? It does not take a smart man to have an opinion about everything, but perhaps some intelligence is necessary to articulate a thought. Lack of vocabulary should never silence a voice, for a simple phrase can provide a person freedom. I take heart in that simplicity.