This is unsettling, and this is real. Seated; partially arched, lower back a flutter of dull discomfort, neck slightly forward, fingers to keys. Is this hunger or anxiety? Sifting through receipts...there is a full realization of the sacrifice at hand. Was this what you pictured? This homicidal security, dripping with the blood of your once proud character. Growing up truly is selling out, and I'm not there yet.