I think of rivers, of tides. Forests and water gushing out. Rain and lightning. Rocks and shadows. All of these are in me.

Unclose your mind. You are not a prisoner. You are a bird in flight, searching the skies for dreams.

He does not exist here, with me, but flesh that does not exist will never die, and promises unmade are never broken.

I think most people live in fiction...That's how you keep your fragile body intact.

It is sometimes necessary for each person. Fill up with delicious food, get drunk, sing loudly and chat frivolously.

I don't go out of my way to make friends, that's all.

[...] Shimamoto had her own little world within her. A world that was for her alone, one I could not enter.