Sometimes it's a struggle to live in the moment.

I wish people were willing to dig a little deeper than the surface elements of a premise before tossing one story in with another.

I wonder how well she sleeps at night, and what kind of dreams she has. I wish I could step into them like she steps into mine.

I think for a minute. Watching my wife fade into the distance, I put a hand on my heart. "Dead." I wave a hand toward my wife. "Dead." My eyes drift toward the sky and lose their focus. "Want it...to hurt. But...doesn't." Julie looks at me like she's waiting for more, and I wonder if I've expressed anything at all with my halting, mumbled soliloquy. Are my words ever actually audible, or do they just echo in my head while people stare at me, waiting? I want to change my punctuation. I long for exclamation marks, but I'm drowning in ellipses.

I adapt to things quickly, including good things, which I wish I could shut off sometimes.

God has made us study partner. We need to talk about our project.

Everything you see, you might be seeing for the last time.