This is my life, I think. I am an accumulation of objects.

Let’s always love each other, and never be in love with each other.

The world is quieter now. It is never quiet, but it can get quieter. What strange creatures we are, to find silence peaceful, when permanent silence is the thing we most dread. Nighttime is not that. Nighttime still rustles, still creaks and whispers and trembles in its throat. It is not darkness we fear, but our own helplessness within it. How merciful to have been granted the other senses.

Let’s make plans,” I ventured. And Sofia smiled and said, “No, let’s leave it to chance.

I should talk to him I know I should talk to him. But I do not talk to him. I watch after him from afar and love him.

I have no more idea now of who I am than I did before. But at least I know that. And I'm starting to figure out who I want to be.

He is much stronger than I think I am. He is mischievous, outgoing, ready to soar through the clouds, while I often feel like the cloud itself.