He drowns in a tide of emotions as he is whisked away by nature's whispers of home and such memorable pleasantries as chicken noodle soup, graham crackers, or perhaps, the warming comfort of a mother's touch, a kiss goodnight; hoping to dream of a perfect world, a sweet return to his troublesome, yet slightly wanted life- a wanted life whose reason to being wanted is quite unknown, even to him- in his wild imagination, cracks break in his skin and his true being begins to surface, revealing the secrets hidden behind his mask, as if he were the chocolate escaping its coating of an M&M shell, and the tears that trickle down his face are nothing to him but small annoyances, because he is used to the sobbing that comes with the death of each dream he encounters or the loving connection with a woman that falters at his fingertips in his very own eyes, as his life begins to fade away slowly, or at least at a slow enough rate that allows him to watch himself freeze like a statue, then disintegrate and blow away with the wind until each particle of his self has dispersed into the air that he used to breathe and the place where he used to stand is now empty, and he, himself, is no more.