paul sipped from his cup of peyote tea, huddled alone in his bedroom, under a blanket, flashlight burying his face, thinking about how he isn't wrong about this, there is something worth searching for, and as he does all this there's a girl sitting in her room thinking:

when does he think about me?

and she brings him groceries sometimes you know. and she hugs him and kisses him and tries to spend time with him, and all he does is kiss back sometimes and tell her that he loves her, but when it comes to these lonely situations, he isn't there.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------
and there are those people that sit straight across from us in the puffball of life, looking desperately at us, waving shouting yelling crying their eyes out, and all we do is just sit there and look ahead aimlessly