Busted Stuff

In this world, they almost force you to either throw yourself off a bridge or smile and get along well with others, which can help you. So what remedy is right? The one from the pharmacy? You should live in a quiet place without noise and be able to flourish in your own life, but sometimes they cut you down mercilessly and you end up on "Grey Street," which could be a metaphor for "When you don't really know where to go, you're fragile, available, and kind, you often find yourself in a pack of wolves." It could refer to "when you don’t really know where to go, you often find yourself in places you never wanted to be"—this is my definition. Or, to avoid suffering, you become gray, in places. They believe you can move on, but instead, you find yourself dissipating into the gray of the wall's plaster.