That strange, twisted, torn love. That conflict between what your heart knows is right and what your mind is told is right.

After tiny has tried ballerina pose, swing-batter-batter pose, pump-up-the-jam pose, and top-of-the-mountain-sound-of-music pose in the reflection of the bean, he walks us to a bench overlooking lake shore drive.

Every two people cause and intersection. Every person alters the world.

I'm always standing on the edge of something bad.

Why do we even bother? Why do we make ourselves so open to such easy damage? Is it all loneliness? Is it all fear? Or is it just to experience those narcotic moments of belonging with someone else?

If you start the day reading the obituaries, you live your day a little differently.

tiny: did someone die? me: yeah, i did. he smiles again at that. tiny: well, then... welcome to the afterlife.