After a few years in this endless purgatory... You get fairly used to this world and its imbalance... Like everyday you sit at the bench in the foggy darkness with the playground lights being colorful, yet unforseen... The sky seems clear, but with this much fog, its confusing how the clouds never move, and its always night... Remember. When the children come, be polite and they'll treat you kindly with company. But be, mean in any way... and well... You may end up dead.