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

I want to write about people who dream and wait for the night to end, who long for the light so they can hold the ones they love.

The better you were able to imagine what you wanted to imagine, the farther you could flee from reality.

If I'm going to merely ramble, maybe I should just snuggle under the warm covers, think of Miu, and play with myself.

Some things, you know, if you say them, it makes them not true?

I'm often asked what I think about as I run. Usually the people who ask this have never run long distances themselves. I always ponder the question. What exactly do I think about when I'm running? I don't have a clue.

It might not be perfect, but the fundamental stance I adopted with regard to my home was to accept it, problems and all, because it was something I myself had chosen. If it had problems, these were almost certainly problems that had originated within me.