it's the end of the summer and everyone is angry at the world. everyone. and nothing can substitute for innocence when it comes to a target for this anger. i want to go outside and smash butterflies and stop flowerbeds... kill all reminders of warm and worry-free afternoons. (haha, i laughed when i typed worry free, but i will leave it in for the poetic irony). its the end of summer and everyone, though i seem to be on the podium at the frustration rally, is angry at the world.