Yellow Birds, 100 Rupees, and more have fractured my soul, this glass bottom of the well. This is a floor on in which butterflies exist and are worth chasing. It is a floor on which my life and the lives of the people I care about are more than scattered starfish on the beach. It is a floor on which we are children pitching starfish back into the ocean. The Illusion of Safety is this: the well truly is infinite, and none of us have anything but glass beneath our feet, so I will fearlessly make my own way forward.