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I grew up, not neglected, but sometimes ignored. All my needs were cared for of course, because my parents are and were good people, but there was something missing. Perhaps because they were academics--mom a historian, dad into Plato. Regardless, their lack of interest is felt now, twenty years later. I rarely feel good about myself. I often feel nothing, because of all the things I truly absorbed from my childhood was my parents' atheism and existentialism. So I know that all is meaningless, unless we put meaning ourselves. This is a long way of saying that it's winter, and I have a date tonight, and I ordered this Top Level Beanie to look sharp this winter. Life may be meaningless, but I still need affection and physical contact and looking dope is part of that and when I where this beanie and look at my pale, sharp face in the mirror, my heart is filled with something akin to self-respect. I will hold onto it with both hands and beating heart.