If they can get you asking the wrong questions, they don't have to worry about the answers.

And it may be that your fetish is the sound of bicycle tires running over loose cobblestones when you turn left into oncoming traffic, chain the wheel to a signpost though everyone knows purple bicycles aren't worth stealing. You don't get the same satisfaction from your shoes crunching the gravel path (though it never stops you from trying) to the shady enclave where your peers mock you and you seek safety near the elderly couple on the bench and they are pleased and surprised when you greet them because What Is It With Young People These Days Anyways?

Perfect movie setting of a park and scene, fourteen-year-olds from the earlier morning market that act as if they've got the world on their shoulders can't decide where to have their cigarettes because you look a bit engrossed in what you are pretending to read because someone once said, "Always read something that will make you look good if you die in the middle of it." and you are pretty sure none of those punks can read Finnish D.I.Y. craft books anyway.

You were always told that you had a certain charisma that lured people in like water to the roots of the tree that you are leaning on but perhaps it does not traverse borders because it is obvious that they don't get it here because you are speaking the same language but from different lips, they don't need water and go in search of wine but that's what they always said so it must be true circle one Yes/No.

But they also said Pluto was a planet and look how that turned out.