We smile, because this is how we save the world.

Not so easy, Mr Lennon. Even if you try.

I feel an unfamiliar but pleasant sensation in my lips, tugging them upward. This is... new.

The shadows of the room pool in the lines of our faces, draining our eyes of hue. "There's nothing left worth saying.

She gathers my half of the blankets around her and curls up against the wall. She will sleep for hours more, dreaming endless landscapes and novas of colour both gorgeous and frightening. If I stayed she would wake up and describe them to me. All the mad plot twists and surrealist imagery, so vivid to her while so meaningless to me. There was a time when I treasured listening to her, when I found the commotion in her soul bitter-sweet and lovely, but I can no longer bear it.

My favorite songs change every year.

I adapt to things quickly, including good things, which I wish I could shut off sometimes. My friends have to keep reminding me how crazy my life has become, and then it hits me fresh and I just slap my forehead and think, "Wait, what... ?"