The very back page is all scribble, much like worry and scrambled thoughts. While the first page is neat,--careful, the last page is its cracked mirror of a opposite. Words on the sides, between the lines, crossed out and corrected.
No account,
No money Job?
I'm not fit for work-- I'll mess it up.
Food ..
No collar.
No bowl. or leash..?
Theres' no cage.
What is this?
What vanillas call Freedom?
It doesn't feel like anything at all.
Independence?
But it's like
walking backwards.
I don't like it.
This is worse than a punishment.
Some kind of torture.
I love my Master. Minho.
no, that doesn't even read right.
I love my Master.
Two days. Go quickly.
please..
