Woorden: Residents. Hard And Tenderly.

They called me "Mr. X, Indeed", the special ones that saw so deep inside
the souls of those who were so lonely. I was down beneath the bottom, when
my vacant staring caught them gaily parading up and down the
street-followed by some stinking masses, freeing fumes and giving gasses
to the brown and nearly worn out air. But they had that certain presence
like the ether or the essence of the cleansing upper atmosphere. Laughing,
loving, and without a doubt, they simply strode about the streets that
other creatures left alone. I ran across, myself compulsive, with the
feeling of a pulsing drum that pounded underneath my skin. A tingling in
my tangled brain was screaming that this was insane, but it also told me,
"Touch it," too.

"Stand aside," I told the masses, and with that I made my passage frome
lonely to the only side. Openly they smiled to greet me, like they always
knew they'd meet me somewhere walking up and down the road. I knew I must
appear as someone far beyond the common come-on, so I could not say my nae
was Ed. So I said, "I'm Mr. X who wants to come and who expects to help
and guide your efforts to succeed." They laughed a little bit at me, and
then said, "Mr. X-Indeed," and hugged me somehow hard and tenderly.
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