It used to be a lot simpler you know? Everything in the world had a more positive connotation. When smoke bothered me, it was because the wind was blowing the warm oaky campfire smoke back into my face making my eyes sting, and now my room is fogged with a thick rancid smoke, the only thing stinging is my pride. The walls feel it too, as they have lost their once pure and white smile, I no longer feel pure either though, so I suppose it is understandable.  When I was asked for a drink as a child I thought lemonade, but now I feel an opportunity to forget. Forget what you may ask? I want to forget the way that my innocence so quickly vanished, and how I was pushed so violently into manhood. The way that I cannot look at the world the same, because my imagination has been corrupted. Life isn't all sunshine and rainbows they would say, and in doing so, they stole mine from me.