There is something about libraries, old libraries, that makes them seem almost sacred. There's a smell of paper and must and binding stuff. It's like all the books are fighting against decay, against turning into dust, and at the same time fighting for attention.

It's a lot easier to understand things once you name them. It's the unknown that mostly freaks me out. I don't know the name of that fear, but I know I've got it, the fear of the unknown.

What I have learned lately is that people deal with death in all sorts of ways. Some of us fight against it, doing everything we can to make it not true. Some of us lose our selves to grief. Some of us lose ourselves to anger.

We all have to feel empty sometimes.

It is love which made all this. War which protects it. With love comes responsibility and possibility, fear and hopes, quests and suffering.

I just think about how saying that you love someone can make your heart feel like some sort of brownie sundae, warm, gooey, sweet and good.

Emotions are real, just not the reasons behind them.