I wanted a heaven. And I grew up striving for that world-- an eternal world- that would wash away my temporary misery.

I was grateful for cereal --- the only food that my tummy, riddled by pangs of infatuation, could handle.

I love the sea because it is boundless.

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.

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.

At night, lying on your back and staring at the falling snow, it's easy to imagine oneself soaring through the stars.

You have so many layers, that you can peel away a few, and everyone's so shocked or impressed that you're baring your soul, while to you it's nothing, because you know you've twenty more layers to go.