Sometimes when I'm with you, I remember things I lost when I was your age. Like I remember the sound of the rain and the smell of the wind.

Loneliness becomes an acid that eats away at you.

One foot in front of the other. Repeat as often as necessary to finish.

What if I’ve forgotten the most important thing? What if somewhere inside me there is a dark limbo where all the truly important memories are heaped and slowly turning into mud?...the thought fills me with an almost unbearable sorrow.

Where there is light, there must be shadow, where there is shadow there must be light. There is no shadow without light and no light without shadow.... We do not know if the so-called Little People are good or evil. This is, in a sense, something that surpasses our understanding and our definitions. We have lived with them since long, long ago-- from a time before good and evil even existed, when people's minds were still benighted.

Music brings a warm glow to my vision, thawing mind and muscle from their endless wintering.

You are 27 or 28 right? It is very tough to live at that age. When nothing is sure. I have sympathy with you.