Some days, Mikey felt solid: he was tough, and felt as if he could take down the Shredder all by himself with nothing more than his nunchucks and determination. Other days, he resembled liquid: slipping from any type of grasp, making a mess, flowing freely. And then there were the days when he felt like gas: incorporeal, disperse, not quite put together... He is energy. Electricity short-circuiting, collapsing and evolving through his brain. He is big and small, naïve and wise, clueless and experienced. He is matter.All Rights Reserved
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