Sometimes, upon waking, the residual dream can be more appealing that reality, and one is reluctant to give it up. For a while, you feel like a ghost -- Not fully materialized, and unable to manipulate your surroundings. Or else, it is the dream that haunts you. You wait with the promise of the next dream.

Shame is always easier to handle if you have someone to share it with.

How satisfying it is to leave a mark on a blank surface. To make a map of my movement - no matter how temporary.

and yet I feel that the most real home I'll ever have is the space where our roads merged and traveled along together... for a time.

Something about being rejected at Church Camp felt so much more awful than being rejected at school.

For what matters if I gain the whole world, but lose my soul?

Pressed against her I can hear eternity -- hollow, lonely spaces and currents that churn ceaselessly, and the fallen snow welcomes the falling snow with a whispered "Hush".