Be careful as you approach the garden of spinal thorns: some of the flowers and bones are too fragile and too helpless, others are spiky and unbent. They can sting or heal you. The same applies to words. Some of them will soothe you, make you feel loose, and some may hurt you, like an unavoidable truth you never wanted to hear. But in the end, you will know that it was all needed, so you could grow into the beautifully-ornamented skeleton you support, flourished and blossomed. With spikes and all. This is an autopsy of the heart and soul of the young.