once there was a boy with a hole in his head. it was not in an obvious place, where everyone would see it. and it did not interfere with his major life functions, like his heartbeat or his breathing. no, it was a rather subtle hole. the boy was not even aware of its existence, until someone (or should i say, something) pointed it out to him. he had, nonetheless, been made aware of its effects. from the beginning, he noticed a difference between himself and everyone around him. for instance, when other children his age were effusive and brimming with life, expressing themselves through their words and actions, he was not. he had no obvious thoughts or feelings about anything. when questions were pointedly directed at him (for there is nothing that makes others so uncomfortable as silence), then he struggled to draw something out from within himself. sometimes, he would succeed in placating his audience by saying some words that he had somehow managed to remember from somewhere else, and on the rare occasion, he would succeed in coming up with something entirely original. but when he was true to himself and to the world, he had to admit, sadly, that he did not know. he did not know a single thing. you see, this hole drained away all of the boy's thoughts and feelings. now, he did not run empty all the time. experiences and words seemed to fill the emptiness within him periodically. but inevitably, inexplicably, these thoughts would seem to dry and dessicate within, leaving empty husks that disintegrated with less than a touch. one might argue (as he had, quite often) that this hole took away his soul. but even he had to admit that it did not, because there was within him something that still stirred and railed at his situation. there was something that made him curse himself, and apologize profusely to others; he was, for all intents and purposes, like a boy beside himself, ...