All of those paper people, living in their paper houses, burning the future so they can stay warm. All the paper kids drinking the paper beer some bum bought for them at the paper convenience store. Everyone demented with the mania of owning things. All the things paper-thin and paper-frail. And all the people, too. I've lived here for eighteen years. And I have never once in my life come across anyone who cares about anything that matters.