when within quiet minds we weep for lack of joy and hope springing into a lush mossy swamp, filling our days with everlasting turmoil and stress we yearn to be free, to touch outside the bounds of academia, to live outside the bounds of our feudal relationship with our parents, to exist on those terms that we see as our own, though we still are bowing to a higher power, yet there is no longer the constant parental figure looming over our heads, invading our lives, moving about our rooms as if they own them, for they do, and causing a mental breakdown which even now has prompted me to spew forth these random words of complaint, anxiety, and the product of an overworked, underused mind.