You know what? I think I know what matters. What matters is the knowledge that I am so rich in a world filled with poverty. I dance through crippled cities, screaming my hope and hearing the echos dance off of the skyscrapers. What matters, underneath the small fragile happiness one can cultivate in this world where death and darkness reign over all that is beautiful and true, is me. Butterflies choke on smog; mold grows in the damp, dank recesses of my mind but none of this matters because I soar overtop of it all. "I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable, I sound my barbaric YAWP over the roofs of the world." What really matters is that I am young and alive and free! I will laugh, yes laugh at this earth for grieving the loss of life. For I am life! I am beauty! I am pure, concentrated joy and I am happy just to be me. This is the truth. I am the prophetess of love and I refuse to be anyone else. Call me an average teenager and you will see lightningbolts in my eyes. My hair frizzes and static flows through it for not even dead cells can stay still in the prescence of so much life! I am the definition of beauty and I scorn this world's standards. I am happy. And that, my friend is what matters.