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Loading, loading… Almost at 100 percent. Maybe someday. Loading, loading… Everything is happy. Even the sounds of glass breaking. Or a shoe stomping off snow. Loading, loading… My car is small. I cried when my old nightstand didn’t fit. Everything is broken. Except my car, so I use it to run. Loading, loading… You will never have. 100 percent. Of anything. Even your hair. Because you plucked out strands out of stress. Loading, loading… Nothing will be complete. That class picture that I stood in. My smile wasn’t great. Not good enough. Loading loading… 99 percent perfect. Is the worst thing in the world.