I learned to forgive myself, and that enabled me to forgive my mother as a person.

I discovered that maybe it was fate all along, that faith was just an illusion that somehow you're in control.

With each passing day, I didn't lose hope. I fought to have more.

We are lost, she and I, unseen and not seeing, unheard and not hearing, unknown by others.

And then she had to fill out so many forms she forgot why she had come and what she had left behind.

And I think now that fate is shaped half by expectation, half by inattention. But somehow, when you lose something you love, faith takes over. -Rose

Who knows where inspiration comes from. Perhaps it arises from desperation. Perhaps it comes from the flukes of the universe, the kindness of the muses.