The water flows in the fountain once more, drowning out the noise. For all the times I thought that there was something to be said for eschewing my aloofness and living in the moment, I was not necessarily wrong, but what if I =was=, indeed, always meant for something more? I look from afar and realize that even as some rational part of me tries to entice me toward blending in, I cannot deny that I am different, that I am chained down by those around me when I try. I am not conceited enough to think that I am better than them. It is simply a different experience.