infant raze we're all born feral, and we bite through the cords that tether us to the places we were made so we can get free. we spend our lives making and breaking and rebuilding ourselves, until all these organic circuits and sieves run dry. there's a man without a family who cares for dying foster children. some of them are deaf and blind and brain-damaged. some of them don't even know he's there. he doesn't want them to die alone. so he loves them until they're gone, killing himself to let them live a little longer. who will care for him when he becomes a child again? 220227 what's it to you? who go blather from