I sit in my room alone. The mattress is bare and on the floor. Tyler doesn’t believe in bedsheets or comforters. I follow along with whatever Tyler says and I’m happy. But i’m not happy. I hate him. Tyler is like the cut on the roof of your mouth that would heal if you could just stop tonguing it. I can’t stop tonguing it. Tyler has changed my life, he’s like my personal messiah. He preaches like one too. My attention is turned to Tyler when he walks into my room.